Little Moments
by ReederJoe
Summary: Even in the midst of a tragedy (in Dan's opinion), Phil only wants Dan, and Dan's just going to have to get over himself and let Phil love him. Lying in bed with him, curled around his body in that protective way that only Phil could manage, he knows exactly what he needs to do. He's pretty excited about it, to be honest.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: Phil**

 **Phil's YouNow, 08-8-15**

 _Crash_.

Immediately, the chat began filling with questions.

 _What was that?_

 _Was that Dan?_

 _Did he die?_

"I hope not." I answered the last one with a chuckle. "This happens a lot. He's probably having another existential crisis. I'll go check on him when this is over."

"Phil!"

At first, I ignored him. He was notorious for interrupting my YouNow's. Not that I was complaining; it was usually quite funny and nobody watching ever seemed to mind. A few more messages appeared, mostly speculating on what Dan was about to do to me. There were a few minutes left, so I began wrapping things up with the viewers.

" _Phil."_

This time, I found myself looking over my shoulder, towards the doorway. Suddenly, I felt a terrible sense of doom, and I had a very strong urge to go out into the hallway. "Hang on, guys," I announced, standing up. I walked over to the door slowly. I knew there was a problem when I saw Dan's phone lying halfway down the steps. And then I saw Dan, lying face-down on the landing at the bottom of the stairs, right next to the front door.

"Oh my God!" The words left my mouth on their own as I practically threw myself down to him. I could hear him groaning and swearing under his breath once I got down on my knees next to him. "Dan, what happened?"

"I tripped, I think," he mumbled wearily. "I don't know."

"Where are you hurt?" As I said this, I looked him up and down. He seemed fine, except for- "Oh no!"

"What, what is it?" He was trying to sit up now, and I threw an arm out to stop him. He opened his mouth to say something, and then snapped it shut again when he saw what I'd seen. "Jesus Christ."

His right ankle was swelling like a balloon, and his shoe suddenly looked very tight around the skin. His eyes went wide then, and he let out another string of swear words as he reached down to wrap his hands around his ankle. As he did this, he gasped. "Nope, can't do that," he whispered, and then looked up at me helplessly.

"Let's get you to the hospital."

 **A/N: I don't own Dan or Phil (But wouldn't that be nice?) I hope you enjoy the story.**

 **Ps: I am trying very hard to not become a committer of cultural appropriation, so if you see something that's not right, please tell me. BUT BE NICE ABOUT IT. Thank you. :)**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Sorry in advance for the shortness! Now that the plot's been set, there'll be lots to discuss in each chapter, and you'll be wishing they were this short again. I hope you enjoy :)**

 **Also, I don't own these two smol beans.**

Chapter One: Dan

16-8-15

The pain was excruciating. I thought falling down the stairs was bad enough, but _nope_. Life had to go and make sure I had zero dignity left, too.

 _"Let him help you_ ," the doctor had said. Phil had a smirk on his face the entire time. _"That's what friends are for_."

Yeah, but they didn't know what kind of frenzy that would send him into. For the past week, he'd been following me around nonstop, genuinely afraid that I was going to hurt myself again. I couldn't even say it wasn't necessary, because he'd had to catch me twice already. The cast encasing my leg midway down to my toes was not helping in the slightest, but there wasn't much I could do about it. I'd be in the plaster for the next month and a half.

 _"Typically six to eight weeks,"_ they'd said. I didn't miss the little smile Phil gave when they'd said I'd have to use the crutches. I could already see the filming opportunities.

It was midnight, and I was starving. Phil had wandered around in my room for almost an hour, making sure there was no possible way I could kill myself by accident. He'd also made me promise not to get up on my own, but he didn't need to know about this.

I'd never felt more British as I stood in the kitchen with a butter knife in one hand and a crumpet in the other, waiting for the kettle to pop. The crutch was leaned against the side of the counter, and I found myself shooting the occasional death glare toward it. I huddled in the corner of our tiny kitchen, trying to ignore the constant ache that now bounced around in my foot.

"Are you kidding me?"

I jumped when I heard his voice. I hadn't even heard him come in, but there he stood, right in the doorway, hands on his hips. With the knife still in my hand, I said, "That's my line."

"What are you doing?" He didn't sound mad, but then again, when had he ever? I'd been his friend long enough to know when he was, though. Right now he just seemed worried.

I held the half-eaten crumpet out to him and said, "Getting food." He walked over to me, leaned against the counter, and let out a sigh.

"I should've known you wouldn't listen to me," he said with a chuckle. "I went to check on you just now, and you weren't in your room. I got worried." The poor guy spent ninety percent of his life worrying about something. I spent, like, none. He worried enough for both of us.

"Sorry," I told him as I lifted my mug to my lips for a sip of tea. I caught sight of the words printed on the side and started laughing. Phil gave me his trademark 'I think you might need help' expression.

"Have you taken too many painkillers?"

"Probably," I replied. I twisted the cup so he could see. "Look. Kanye Not?"

"Go back to bed," he ordered, so I bowed my head a bit.

"Yes, master."

I set the mug down and stepped forward to get the crutch. Naturally, I tripped over my huge plastered foot and shot forward into Phil. Now, if he'd been expecting it, he'd have probably caught me and kept me from falling into the glass door (which didn't happen, by the way) or if I wasn't the unluckiest person in the world, I could have caught myself by grabbing the counter or something.

Instead, what happened was this: I fell forward and Phil had literally enough time to look in my direction before I was on top of him, screaming for my life. We both crumpled in a heap on the floor and I laid there a moment, contemplating my life choices, and then I opened my eyes to see that _my lips were touching his_. Phil realized this at the same time I did, and we both let out some kind of noise that could have come from a dying animal. I scrambled off him with as much dignity as I had left- not much by this point- and he jumped to his feet with wide eyes and bright red cheeks.

"Um…" I reached up and held the counter top as I pulled myself up.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I snatched the crutch and put it under my arm.

"I'm…going to go back to bed. Uh…you'll be okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Yeah. I'll be fine." He left the kitchen after that, and I had to admit that I was slightly surprised that he hadn't made me let him help me get back to bed. I walked slowly down the hall toward my room, glancing toward Phil's door in the process.

I was back in bed, about to fall asleep, when the first thought occurred to me. _It hadn't been that bad_. And then another thought: _It was actually kind of nice_. I stared at the ceiling, mulling it over. I would have been better off to just forget the whole thing happened. It was an accident. A mistake. We'd been living together for years now; it was bound to happen eventually. These things happened to people sometimes. It didn't have to mean anything, because we were just friends. There was no reason for it to become anything of significance.

Except it already had.

For the rest of the night, I didn't sleep. I would say I didn't notice the pain in my ankle, but that would be an outright lie. It was easier to ignore, though.

I thought about those few seconds I'd never get back. I thought about the way it felt lose the last shred of my dignity. How it felt to lie on top of him as I tried to reevaluate myself. It wasn't the worst feeling in the world- he was soft and squishy, like a pillow. I tried very hard not to think about that thing called a kiss that we'd shared. His lips had been slightly salty, but only Jesus knows why. Maybe he had a secret snack stash in his room.

I tried even harder not to think about the spark I'd felt. I'd heard everyone in my life talk about _the spark_ \- that special feeling you get when you meet The One. I'd kissed plenty of people in my life, but none of those planned kisses had felt quite like this accidental flop of a thing I'd just experienced. I wondered, briefly, what that might mean, and then I had to stop because there wasn't enough room in my brain to imagine it.

I found myself wanting to replay the kiss, and as I got more tired, my brain stopped fighting the urge, and I half-dreamt about it the rest of the night. I found myself wanting another, and I honestly didn't know what to do with that kind of feeling.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Phil**

 **17-8-16**

I woke up with a smile on my face. It didn't occur to me until I'd already gotten out of bed and showered that I was smiling because of what had happened the night before. I was still smiling when I walked into the kitchen, but I felt all the color in my face when I saw Dan leaned against the counter, holding a bowl of cereal. The memory of it came pounding into my mind, the way his lips had tasted for that brief moment- sweet, like fairy floss- and the spark of electricity that had pulsed through me once I realized what was happening.

It was all very surreal to me; I had never felt anything like this for him before. Our relationship was purely platonic. What had happened last night was nothing more than an accident, a clashing of the stars.

If that was all true, though, why did I find myself replaying the kiss over and over in my head? Why did I dream about it? Why did I find myself hoping for it to happen again? I couldn't push that thought away- the desire to feel his lips against mine again.

"How's the foot?" I asked, ignoring the commotion swirling in my brain. He made a noise that could have been a dying whale as I reached for a bowl in the cupboard. I'd made my way around the circle of choices and was now back to Shreddies. Once I had breakfast in hand, I turned back to Dan. I was expecting things to feel more awkward than this, but I certainly wasn't going to complain. I noticed the bottle of pills sat next to him and asked, "Did you take your medication?"

"Yes, mum, I did." He smiled when he said it, so I smiled back. Our eyes locked for a moment, and I felt that thing I'd never felt before- until last night, at least- coursing through me again. It was almost too much to look at him for more than a few seconds. Finally I had to turn away, and I tried to cover by fiddling with a glass of juice. "Um…about last night."

I froze up when I heard those words. I didn't know what I was more afraid of: that he'd suggest we try it, or that we should never speak of it again. I wanted both of these things at the same time, and it was very confusing. "Yeah?"

"I think we should"-

"Forget about it?"

His face became an expression that I didn't quite understand, and I'd come to know most of his expressions. He was only silent for a heartbeat, and then he said, "Exactly. Just push it aside and move on." He smiled again, but there was something off about it. I decided to ignore it for now, as the awkwardness was too much at the moment. We finished our breakfast with as much normality as possible, and by the time Dan was settled in his sofa crease, things had gone back to the way they were before. I watched him in his 'browsing position' (as he liked to call it) and worked on editing a gaming video that we planned to upload in the next few days.

The only problem was, I didn't know if I wanted things to keep being like this.

Two days went by without incident. Dan and I had managed to resume our normal lives, and any mention of that night was all but forgotten by him, it seemed. I was able to distract myself with other things during the day, but once I went to bed, it was the only thing on my mind. I dreamt of it, different versions of that kiss that had apparently ruined my life. I wondered if Dan was feeling any of the things I felt, but I couldn't ask him. I couldn't ask anyone, because nobody besides us knew what had happened.

Dan wore that strange expression more often as well. Like he was trying really hard to get the right answer to a question he knew nothing about. There was a part of me that thought maybe he was looking like that because he was just as torn as I was, but I was too scared to ask him about it. We'd never had trouble talking to each other about our problems before, but it seemed that we'd finally found our limit. I looked at him and wondered if this was how things were going to be from now on.

 **19-8-16**

Things were almost too normal. I'd been doing a pretty good job of blocking out the thoughts and the memory, but I still had no idea if Dan was having this much trouble with it. He usually couldn't hide his emotions very well, so I was assuming that he'd moved on with no issue.

He slid to the edge of the sofa and placed the crutch in a position to stand up. "You need help?" I asked, as he made a face.

"Phil, please," he scoffed, standing. "I'm an adult. I think I can handle this." I couldn't help but laugh at him; he had already tripped once today. The plaster was turning him into a walking liability. He stood up with a triumphant smile and took a step forward. As soon as his good foot touched the ground, he lost his balance and fell backwards, into my lap.

"Shit," he said. "Bloody Hell." As he said this, he tried to get back up, which only made him fall backwards again. I placed my hands on his back, planning to help shove him up, but when I made contact, he froze. Slowly, he turned his torso and head to face me, and I found myself staring at him with wide eyes. I could feel the tension in the air, so thick you could cut it with a knife. His eyes were liquid chocolate, the light reflected off the black earrings he wore. It felt like an eternity passed as I watched him, watched his face come closer to mine, watched his hands slowly reach up to wrap around my neck, right under my ears. His thumbs rested below my eyes, and I reached out to cradle his face as well.

It was almost the same, but not quite. It was the same because the spark was there again, and feeling his weight on me (again) was like being swathed in a warm blanket. It was the same because I could see the color in his cheeks, that little sign of embarrassment that he couldn't hide from anyone. It was the same because, like last time, we'd come to this moment by accident.

It was different because there had been no time to think about it the first time. That night had been a train wreck, and everything had happened too fast for comprehension. Now, as our lips touched softly, as I tasted the sweet sugar of his skin, there was all the time in the world to comprehend the situation. I was kissing him, on purpose. It was no accident this time, and it was mutual, and I suddenly understood the meaning behind that mysterious expression he'd worn for the past three days. He'd wanted it, too.

It could have been a lifetime or just a few seconds, but eventually we pulled ourselves away from each other. Our breaths came quick and heavy, as if we'd just run a marathon. I almost laughed at that thought. As if we'd ever do that.

We sat there in silence for a few seconds, Dan pressing his forehead to mine, and then I heard him say softly, "I don't know about you, but I've wanted to do that since Sunday."

I laughed. "It's all I've been thinking about."

He pulled away from me then to glare, but he looked like he was about to explode from happiness, so it wasn't very convincing. "You twat, why didn't you say something?"

There wasn't really a good reason for it, so I simply shrugged a shoulder and told him, "I was afraid."

His brow furrowed slightly as he thought about this, and then he said, "Me, too."

We didn't need to say anything else. We both knew what had just happened, that we had let it happen. We'd both _wanted_ it to happen, and I couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. Dan had made himself comfortable on top of me, laying his head against my chest. Our fingers were intertwined at our sides, and I sighed.

"Hey, Dan?"

"Hmm?"

"What are we?"

He was silent for a heartbeat, and then, "I swear to Christ, Phil. Did you just reference a bloody meme?"

I walked with him down the hall. He still wouldn't give up the fight for his independence, but he let me make sure he didn't kill himself getting to his room. Once he was settled, I turned to leave.

"Hey, uh, Phil?" I twisted back to face him again. He had another expression on his face, another one I'd never seen before. He seemed flustered. "Could you…stay?" It hadn't even occurred to me that this was a possibility, but now that he'd put the idea in my head, there was no way I could leave.

He rearranged himself a bit, made room for me, and then I slipped in behind him, curling my body around his. I was careful to avoid his bad leg and wrapped an arm around his waist. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to hold him like this, and I wondered how I'd gone this long without it. Things had changed so drastically in the past two weeks.

"Night, Danny," I whispered, hearing him groan at the sound of the name. I couldn't remember how it'd gotten started, but everyone (except him, of course) loved it when I called him that. He reached down and smacked the arm I had curled around him, but I just laughed. I knew he was smiling.

 **A/N: If you're reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this installment. Feel free to leave a review or, if you're really feeling bold, send me a message and we can fangirl/fanboy over the Phandom!**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys! If you're reading this, don't forget to leave a review! I'm so happy that you all are enjoying this story. I've never had so many followers before, so I'm sort of feeling morally obligated to keep it going (I have a bad procrastination problem- sounds like someone we know?) Anyway, this chapter is longer, but I don't think you guys mind. I hope it's living up to your expectations.**

 **Deep down, we're all Phan trash.**

 **Now go do what you came here for. Bye!**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Three: Dan**

 **18-8-16**

 _I twisted around, trying to get myself back on my feet. A pair of hands pressed into my back, and I froze._

 _I knew he'd probably only put his hands there to help me, but the feeling of him touching me was too much. The urge I'd been fighting for the past three days was in full force, and I could only think of one thing. It frustrated me to no end that I felt this way now, but I couldn't help it anymore._

 _I turned to face him. The setting sun hit the window perfectly, streaming low light into the room and onto his face. He watched me with wide eyes, green and blue and yellow dancing wildly. His ebony fringe was falling into his eyes, and it was suddenly the most beautiful thing in the world to me. I wanted nothing more than to take his face in my hands and press my lips to his, and the intensity of this thought scared me._

 _His skin was like fire. It was one of the tell-tale signs of his overwhelming awkwardness, and it seemed to be ten times worse tonight. He could hide what he felt- something I could never do- but his eyes gave away all the things he was trying to ignore. I could see for myself that he wanted this as much as I did, and so I decided to give in to the desire, to take a chance that might ruin our friendship. It couldn't be worse than living in this tension forever._

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was his face, two inches from mine. My first instinct was to scream, because _why was he in bed with me?_ My second thought was to scream louder, because _we might have done more than just sleep, if you know what I mean_. I didn't do either of these things, but instead just laid there and watched him breathe quietly. I slowly became aware of his arm on me, and I remembered how he'd wrapped himself around me the night before, as if I were some kind of security blanket. If I was being perfectly honest with myself, it was a really nice feeling.

He woke up not long after I did, eyes sliding open and watching me with a small smile. He tightened his grip on me slightly as he became more aware of the situation. It was almost dizzying to consider just how much things had changed. Neither of us spoke, but the silence seemed okay.

After a few minutes, his lips moved. I would know because I'd been non-subtly staring at them.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked. I met his eyes, but only for a moment; the expression in them was almost as intense as last night, and I couldn't focus for more than a few seconds at a time.

"Sure," I answered casually, though in reality it had probably been the best night's sleep I'd ever gotten. "You?"

"Sure," he echoed me, smiling wider. "The sound of your snoring in my ear was very soothing."

" _Thanks_ ," I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. I actually didn't know if I snored or not, but I figured he would have thrown something at me by now if I did. The walls were pretty thin, after all. Another minute passed, and I asked, "What time is it?"

He rolled away, onto his other side, to reach for his phone on the nightstand. I surprised myself by feeling sad when he let go of me, and then my nose scrunched up as I tried to figure out what was even happening anymore. "Looks like it's ten," he said. When Phil turned back to me with phone in hand, he laughed. "What's wrong with you?"

I didn't know if I could tell him. I needed to, before things got out of control, but I didn't know if I could tell him that specific thing that had just happened when he took his arm away. It was so… _embarrassing_. It made me want to cringe just thinking about it. So instead, I opened my mouth to tell him that I was still afraid, but a thought popped into my head at the very last second, and what came out was, "Oh God."

The look on his face then was priceless. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, and it was an expression I'd become very familiar with, mostly because I did this quite often, and he was too nice to call me out on it. So he'd usually just stare at me until I explained what was going on. This time was no different.

"The Phandom," I whispered, realizing with necessarily wide eyes. It had occurred to me rather suddenly, and now I had a whole new set of problems to deal with. All I could say was that we were lucky it hadn't been a live show night, or we'd be pretty deep in shit right now.

"What about them?" he asked, clearly oblivious. He'd always been more…open-minded, I guess, about the whole 'shipping' thing, which I couldn't care less about as long as nobody tried to shove it down my throat. 2012 was a testament to that.

"What if we'd been doing a live show last night?"

"Oh." Comprehension crossed his face, and then he laughed. "That might have caused a war." I saw how he could be so nonchalant about it all, because he'd never really been bothered by it, even when people (guys and girls, both) would come up to us and demand to know if we were secretly dating. To be fair, it didn't really bother me, either, but things just got too weird. I knew he honestly couldn't care less who knew what we did, but I did.

They couldn't know. If they knew, this wouldn't work. I knew that much. I felt like he wanted this to work out, and so did I, but it wasn't going to happen if the entire world was focused on whether or not we were going to kiss in our next video. (Yeah, I knew they did that already, but someone once said that it was better to keep your mouth closed and have others think you a fool than to open your mouth and have it confirmed. Or something like that.) The point was, things had to continue as they were. We couldn't be like other couples on YouTube, who made it very obvious they were together. But we also couldn't distance ourselves from each other. They'd know something was up.

"Dan?" I blinked a few times, and realized I was staring at the ceiling. I hadn't even noticed it until now. Phil's voice cleared out my thoughts, and I turned to look at him. "It's a bit early for an existential crisis."

"It's never too early to question the meaning of life," I retorted with a smile, but deep down, I was still worried. The worst part was that I didn't really know for sure what he expected out of this. I'd have to ask, I supposed. "You made that really awful joke last night," I started, cringing already at the memory. "But neither of us answered the question."

"Which was?" He'd laid his head back down, looking up at the ceiling. Not in a crisis-y way, though. One arm reached out to take my hand, and I really wanted to know how this all felt so natural to him. His eyes were closed, but one popped open to look at me.

"What are we? What is this? What's happening? What's _going_ to happen?" I would have continued, but he clamped a hand over my mouth with another laugh. He was awfully happy this morning.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, to my surprise. And here I thought he knew what he was doing! I started to say something else, but he cut me off. "But it's pretty obvious, to me, anyway, that we can't go back to just being friends." There were only two options at this point, as far as I was concerned: Fall in love and get married, or never speak again. Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but I think we can all agree that it would be almost impossible to go back to the way things were.

"So," I said. "We're together, then." Phil opened his mouth- to agree, probably- but I blurted out, "The Phandom can't know," before he had the chance. "At least, not yet."

"Okay," he agreed, meeting my eyes for the second time that morning. Things slowed way down, and it felt like everything was in slow-motion as we kissed for either the second or third time (depending on how you looked at it), and then Phil declared that it was time for breakfast, and for me to take my medication, so I begrudgingly allowed him to help me out of bed and down the hall. If I'd really had to, I could manage on my own. I'd fall down a lot, but I could do it. However, the smile it brought to his face when he had an arm outstretched, ready to catch me…it was almost too much. If it really brought him that much happiness, I couldn't consciously deny him that pleasure.

As we ate an extremely healthy meal of cereal and milk, I realized I could still taste his lips on mine. They were still salty, and I still had no idea why.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Jesus, Dan. How are you still alive?" Phil and I were sat on the sofa in the lounge. Joe Sugg sat in the armchair across the room, looking at me with an expression of, well, pretty much what he'd just said. To be honest, I didn't know how I wasn't dead yet, either. His sister, Zoe, sat on the arm beside him, smiling like a fool. We'd just finished telling them everything that had happened, including the part about how were now technically together, and I had a suspicion that Zoe was secretly a member of the Phandom.

"We're not ready for the fans to know yet," Phil reminded them, eyeing Zoe. Her smile was so big, it was hard to tell if she was actually disappointed by this news or not. Joe patted her knee and laughed.

"Not to worry," he assured us. "We'll not tell a soul until you give us the get-go." At that exact moment, Caspar Lee walked in. He'd been in the kitchen (his eating habits were almost as bad as mine), and as he plopped down on the end of the sofa beside me, he asked, "Tell who what?"

"The fans," Phil said calmly. "About us."

"Oh," he said, reaching up to touch his hair briefly. "It's been a while, though, hasn't it?"

"Been a while since what?" I asked.

"You've not been dating the past three years?"

"I can see how you think that," I muttered, at the same time that Phil snorted and said, "Of course not!"

"I told you guys," I announced, pointing a finger toward Joe and Zoe. "The Phandom."

"I feel lost," Caspar said, a look of confusion on his face. "What even is life?" He looked at me with wide eyes, and I almost felt sorry for him. He'd obviously fallen into the trap set by the obsessed people we tried to avoid. This was understandable, though, because we hadn't known Caspar all that long, so most of his knowledge of us was probably based off the internet, and we know what's on there.

"Well, definitely don't tell them, then," Caspar continued. "They'll riot or something." He chewed on a thumbnail as we sat there in silence, the kind of comfortable silence that doesn't require small talk. I found myself looking at Phil, something I did quite often, even before all this mess. He'd never been much for silence, so I watched the way his lips moved as he told a story about some woman he'd met in a shop a few days before. I watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he laughed, remembering a joke. His eyes lit up when he told Joe how the woman had called him a "nice young gentleman", and his eyes crinkled in the corners when Zoe laughed and said, "Well, of course. It's all true."

I found myself watching every little aspect of him, and I began to wonder if I'd really only begun to feel this way after the incident. Everything about him was suddenly beautiful to me, from the way he laughed at his own stupid jokes to the fact that his lack of balance made him seriously underqualified to play nurse. It seemed impossible for all this to happen in such a short span of time.

But perhaps the strangest thing of all was that I could barely feel the ache in my leg, and I could recall the pain being pretty awful just a few days ago.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys! I'll say right now that I'm not entirely sure how the chapters are gonna go when they do their videos, but hopefully it'll be okay. Also, if anyone is interested in doing some fanart for this story, send me a message! I'd love some visual aides, but I'm pretty crap at drawing.**

 **Anyway, enjoy the chapter and don't forget to leave a review!**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Four: Phil**

 **25-8-15**

"I'm afraid so." Dr. Spencer said, looking each of us in the eyes. There was an expression of sorrow on his face, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it. These things were practically an everyday occurrence. And yet, Dan sat in his chair with a hand over his mouth. I was almost positive he would throw up before we got out of here.

"It's a fairly simple procedure," Dr. Spencer continued, gesturing toward his computer screen. "Dr. Lyles and I will go in here"- his finger touched the screen showing a picture of the x-ray they'd taken of Dan's ankle earlier- "and arrange the bones with a few pins." He looked back up at us. "It'll be a very short operation." One corner of his mouth turned up in what he probably thought was a sympathetic smile, and then he stood up from his desk. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll just go fetch Dr. Lyles and we can begin the paperwork."

As soon as he was out of sight, Dan's hand latched onto mine. I turned my head to look at him, and as soon as I could see his face, he leaned over to rest his head on my shoulder. It wasn't like him to be so open about things, especially not now. I let out a sigh and said, "It'll be okay, you know. They do the surgery almost every day."

"I know," he replied unconvincingly. I could feel the tension rolling off him. I knew he'd never had a surgery before, or even stayed overnight in the hospital, so it was understandable to be afraid. Dan was really bad at hiding his feelings, and right now it was obvious to anyone who bothered to look that he'd rather take the risk of permanent damage. Or maybe it wasn't that obvious. Maybe I just spent too much time studying him these days.

"Alright, here we go," said a voice from the hallway. Dr. Spencer came back into the office, trailed by a red-haired woman standing almost a foot taller than him. They both took a seat on the other side of the desk, and Dan made no effort to move away from me. This actually worried me slightly, because he'd been pretty jumpy lately around other people. Then again, this is probably how it'd have been under other circumstances, too. Dr. Lyles held out a stack of papers which Dan took hesitantly in his free hand. After a few seconds of silence, he pushed himself up and pulled his hand free from mine. He signed the papers quickly and gave them back to Dr. Lyles.

"I assure you, Mr. Howell," she said with a smile, "You're in good hands here." She reached out and shook Dan's hand, and after a moment of thought, shook mine, too. Dr. Spencer gave a small nod when she looked back at him and her smile grew wider. They both stood up again and moved around the desk to our side.

"You're scheduled first thing Thursday morning," Dr. Spencer reminded us. Dan gave a soft reply, which I doubted either doctor understood, but they both nodded and saw us to the door. With a quick pat on Dan's shoulder, Dr. Spencer added, "Try not to worry too much."

We walked the halls of Whittington in silence. Dan shuffled along beside me, looking at his crutch as if it was the source of all his problems. I held a hand out, ready to catch him if he tripped, which, let's be honest, would probably happen at least once before we got out of here.

As we neared the main entrance to the hospital, I spotted Zoe waiting under the awning. Before she looked up and saw us, I took Dan's hand and tugged him off to the side, into a small alcove. He let out a small _yelp_ as I pulled him to me and wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug. "You're going to be fine," I promised. He pressed his face into my shoulder and groaned.

"Yeah, probably." His voice was muffled, but I could still tell that he didn't really believe it. I wasn't surprised that he felt so strongly about the whole situation; it was kind of his thing to feel too much. I wanted to help him, and I didn't really know how. I raised my eyes to the ceiling and stared at the panels, as if the answer might lie in the tiny cracks there. "Thanks for coming with me."

I looked back down at him with a smile, ready to tell him it was no problem, and blinked, struck by the intensity of his gaze. I felt a weird urge to look away, but I controlled it. My hands reached out of their own accord, pressing to the sides of his face, touching the skin below his ears that seemed to be on fire. He gripped my coat tightly, one hand on each side. These things came naturally to me now, and maybe to him, too, but I didn't understand why. I was starting to think that we'd both been feeling this way for a long time.

It was strange to kiss him in a public place. Not the way it felt in the beginning, when I was still sort of convinced that it was wrong, but in that 'normal' way that couples felt when they were in public and it felt like everyone was watching them. As his tongue slipped into my mouth, brushing over my teeth, his grip on me tightened, and I felt his desperation. It was as bad as his fear of dark forests- maybe worse.

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We decided to do a live show that night. It was a Tuesday, the normal time of the week for Dan to do his, but I was surprised when we got inside the flat and Dan asked if we could do it together. I could tell he was looking for distraction, and I didn't have the heart to tell him no, so here I sat, watching him talk to the viewers, fighting a near constant urge to touch him.

"I'm still a walking train wreck, even more so than usual," he said with a laugh, answering someone's question about his leg. His mouth crinkled in the corners, revealing the dimples everyone loved to make memes of, and I had the sudden urge to press my lips to his cheek. It was honestly getting ridiculous. I'd known him for, what, six years now? I'd never had this problem before now. I loved him, platonically, of course. He was my best friend. We'd told each other those words before, but we hadn't said it since that night. I think we both knew it might mean something else now, and we were both afraid of that. "Phil."

I looked down at him. He had a hand pressed over the microphone. "You okay?" I couldn't help it; I laughed. He'd been living a little personal Hell today and was worried about _me_?

"Of course," I assured him, patting the knee of his good leg. He watched me for a moment, and then released the mic. The chat filled up with questions about our _secret meeting_ , and we told them they'd have to wait and see. Before long, it was time to end it, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the video disappeared and the home screen popped up. I leaned back into the sofa cushion and looked up at the ceiling. A few minutes passed in silence, and then there was a slight shudder as Dan shuffled closer to me.

"That was harder than I thought it'd be," he admitted, laying his head back beside mine. "I thought for sure I'd start crying or something."

"Tell me about it," I agreed, nodding. I looked over at him, but his eyes were fixed on the light above us. I wondered if I should tell him about my issues. I decided, for the time being, he had enough to deal with. I could manage on my own. I slipped an arm around his waist and he pressed himself to my side, breathing deeply. We laid there in silence, and before long, he fell asleep.

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"Easy does it." I held onto him as he maneuvered his cast-ridden leg against the bed frame and plopped down. He had one hand on my arm, still half-asleep. As he lowered his head to the pillow, I tugged the blanket up to cover him and started to turn away. He'd pulled his hand free, but now he grabbed me again.

"Don't go," he whispered, eyes closed.

"I'll be right back," I promised, gently moving his arm away. I bent down and kissed his cheek quickly, the way I'd wanted to since we'd gotten back to the apartment. His lip turned up in a half-smile and I turned away again, leaving the bedroom.

I stood in the bathroom for a long time, staring at my reflection. In two days, he'd have his surgery. I hoped he'd be able to get through it without freaking out over something. I'd be there for him, and he knew that, so maybe it would keep him sane long enough to heal. I wondered what would be happening right now if that kiss hadn't happened that night. Would we have never become whatever it was that we were now? The strangest part about it all was that I didn't like to think about that. Now that we had this, I didn't want to go back. I didn't understand any of my emotions right now, but I knew I'd do it over the exact same way if it happened again.

The door to my room was open as I passed it, and I looked inside with a feeling of indifference. I'd hardly spent any time in there the past month, except for filming. To be honest, I didn't miss it all that much, especially the wicker bed. The thing was kind of hideous, and it sometimes felt like I was going to crash through to the floor. It was like sleeping in a picnic basket.

Dan was sleeping soundly- thankfully- when I finally got myself settled beside him. I had worried that he'd try to wait up for me. Still, as I shifted under the blanket, I felt him stir next to me, and the next thing I knew, he was curled up against me, one arm wrapped around my waist. His head was pressed into my shoulder; I wondered how he could breathe like that. He never woke up, though, so it must not have been that uncomfortable.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter is long...I kinda got carried away (loads of fluff) Ya'll are trash, so I think you'll be fine. Uh, let's see...I'm still looking for someone (or more) to draw some stuff for me to go along with this fic, so if you're interested, shoot me a message! Don't forget to leave a review, and enjoy this fluffy fluff ball!**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Five: Dan**

 **27-8-16**

We were dancing. We'd been sitting in the middle of a field, surrounded by trees, and Phil suddenly jumped up and stuck a hand out. "You can't be serious," I'd argued, frowning. I had no balance as it was; this was just asking for pain. His stance was unwavering, however.

"Come on, try it," he'd said, reaching down to take my hands in his. There was no music playing, but it wasn't like that would've mattered. He pulled me close to him, chest-to-chest, and wrapped one arm around my waist. His other hand held mine tightly at our shoulders, and I wound my own arm around his neck, hoping this wouldn't end in disaster. Still, I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel nice t to be in his arms like this, feeling his palm on the small of my back. We swayed gently to an imaginary beat.

"See? This is nice," Phil murmured now, lips right at my ear. Was it weird for him to do these things now? We'd been friends for so long. Shouldn't it feel strange to find pleasure in these romantic gestures? It felt so natural to me, like we'd been together this way since we met. His fingers curled under his palm on my skin; it felt like he was trying to pull me closer.

"Where'd this come from?" I asked, looking into his eyes. They were a swirl of colors, glittering like mad in the bright sun. It was almost too intense, but I didn't look away. I tightened my grip on him, feeling slightly more confident that we weren't going to trip over each other. "Not that I'm surprised." I really wasn't, because this wasn't the strangest thing he'd ever made me do.

"We'll have to go soon," he whispered suddenly, leading us to the side, toward the line of trees that marked the edge of the field. As I watched them, they changed, became blurry in my vision. I absolutely did not want to go toward them, but Phil kept a firm grip on me as we moved toward the darkness. Two feet from the edge, and we stopped. He pulled his arms free and moved them to my face, fingers curling over my cheeks. I wanted to do the same, but I didn't want to let go of him. Or maybe it was that I couldn't.

I began to realize what was going on as his lips touched mine softly, tongue gently pressing against my teeth. My arms were rooted in place around his neck, but I didn't really care. The only thing that mattered was the way his skin felt, scorching hot and soothing against mine, which was suddenly freezing cold. He took my hand again and held it tightly, leaned in close and whispered my name in my ear.

 _Beep…..beep….beep…beep._

"Vitals are stable."

"Right on cue."

"Another job well done, Dr. Lyles."

I recognized the last voice as Dr. Spencer. Everything was black, and I almost panicked, but then I realized I still had my eyes closed. _Nice, Dan._ I raised one eyelid and looked around. There was a slight pressure on my right hand, tightness in the other. There were noises everywhere- voices, machines, the occasional blare of an alarm- but I tuned them all out. The pressure on my hand increased, and I heard my name again. I turned my head.

"Hello, love." Phil's smile was easily the brightest thing in the room. I returned it without even thinking. He leaned down a bit and said, "Everything went perfectly. Just like I promised." My foot was hidden under the blankets; just as well since I didn't want to see it.

"If anything had gone wrong, I'd have blamed you anyway," I retorted, rolling my eyes. He just laughed and pulled my hand to his lips, where he placed a kiss on my knuckles. The endearment made my heart feel funny, and I remembered that strange dream I'd had right before waking up. It occurred to me, right as a nurse walked in, what Phil had called me when I first looked at him.

I was embarrassingly flustered as the nurse- I think her name was Emmy- asked questions about my pain level and whether I felt like drinking anything yet. She smiled the whole time, eyes flashing between Phil and me, and I knew she knew what we were. She didn't seem to mind, though. "I'll be right outside, if you need anything," she said afterward, taking a step backwards. "You'll have a lot of people in and out the next few hours. Just a heads up." She left the room then, leaving us alone again. Phil had never let go of my hand, and I just knew that Nurse Emmy had loved every moment of it.

"Almost over, love," he said softly, almost to himself. For a moment, I wondered if he even meant for me to hear it, but then his eyes met mine again, and he smiled. "Looks like you were worried for nothing."

"What's with the…thing?" I asked vaguely, waving a hand in the air. It was a terrible form of a question, but I knew he understood what I meant because his cheeks turned bright red.

"Oh, uh, well," he practically stuttered, charmingly flustered. I wasn't surprised that I was attracted by this- I mean, by this point, it was just stupid. "It felt like a thing to do, I guess." His brow furrowed as he thought of something and then he added, "Is it okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I told him, trying to sound casual about it. Truthfully, he was making my heart skip a beat every time, but we could deal with that later. His smile returned full-force, and I ended up pulling his face down, salty lips pressing to mine softly. He seemed eager for this, and the thought made me ridiculously happy. What the Hell had happened to us?

After a few seconds, he pulled away, and I let my head flop back down. It was pretty exhausting to kiss someone in this position. As he leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth. "Hey, Phil?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you so salty?"

"What?" He was laughing, clearly not understanding. That was okay; I could listen to his laugh forever if I had to. "What are you on about?"

"Your lips," I explained. "It's like kissing a pickle."

"You know what's weird? Everyone I've ever kissed has said that to me." My eyes widened at this revelation. What was he doing, soaking them in brine?

"You're a strange one, Phil."

"I know, Danny."

"Don't call me that," I said with a shudder. I didn't know who had come up with it, but everyone did that. I knew he'd keep doing it, too, just to annoy me. I sunk down in the bed with that thought, feeling very tired all of a sudden. It was hard to keep my eyes open. I looked at him accusingly.

"Must be time for painkillers," he offered, gesturing to the IV pole on my left. His hand found mine again and latched on, fingers circling the skin in soothing patterns. I relaxed against the pillow, let my eyes close. The last thing I heard was his voice, telling me, "Sweet dreams, love."

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 **29-8-16**

They made me stay one night for 'observation'. Phil ended up sleeping in a horrendously uncomfortable-looking chair, but he didn't complain once. I tried to get him to go home and sleep in his actual bed, but he wouldn't have it. His excuse was that he'd promised my parents he'd stay close by in case something happened, but I saw ulterior motives in his eyes. I didn't question them, though, because if he really wanted to be near me that bad, who was I to crush his dreams?

Currently, I was sat on the sofa, trying to decide if it was worth it to sneak to the kitchen. They'd told me not to put weight on my foot for at least a couple weeks, so things hadn't changed very much. The only problem was that Phil had somehow become even more protective. I was lucky to have this bit of time to myself while he took a shower. I couldn't shake the feeling that kept welling up inside me, though. I'd realized lately that it was a feeling I'd been repressing for a while now. I'm talking months, maybe even years. I was blaming it on the fact that I was a fanboy before I ever met Phil, so some of that God-like adoration had spilled over into our friendship, and made me feel things for him that I shouldn't.

Of course, it was all bloody okay now, wasn't it? I smiled to myself, feeling relieved. Why? Hell if I knew, but it still felt nice.

"What's funny?" Phil asked, appearing in the doorway of the lounge. He was already dressed- well, dressed for bed. His favorite pyjama pants (Star Wars theme) _swished_ lightly as he made his way over to me and plopped down. Instinctively, I scooted toward him, craving the closeness. I had stopped questioning my brain's motives; instead, I just went with the flow. Phil stretched out on the sofa and I felt his arms wind around me from behind, pulling me close to him. He was careful to avoid my bandaged ankle as he brought his legs up, and we laid there for a while in silence, waiting for Phil's live show to start.

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"Hello Emma S., Haley C., Charlie, Laura P., Maddie," Phil was saying. This was how he began every live show, by rewarding the early birds with mentions of their names. He'd probably spend the entire hour just doing that if it was up to him. I couldn't help but laugh at the thought.

"Sarah P. wants to know how your ankle is, Dan," he continued, looking at the camera. They didn't know it, but our hands were clasped tightly together between us, below the camera's frame. About five minutes before he was scheduled to broadcast, Phil had sheepishly admitted to me the problem he'd experienced during my live show on Tuesday. It was pretty funny if you asked me, but I didn't tell him that. What I did tell him was that maybe we could give in just a little and keep it a secret. He twisted his fingers so that they interlaced with mine, and we grinned like a pair of idiots.

"Hurts a whole lot, Sarah P.," I answered, sighing loudly. "Luckily the good people at Whittington gave me the good stuff." I reached over for the bottle of pills and held it in front of the camera for a moment. "Once I get this in my system, you could break bricks on me. I wouldn't even notice."

"Dan, they'll get your address off that." Phil was laughing as he released my hand and reached over to snatch the bottle away.

"Whoops," I joked, looking to the chat. "Please don't stalk me, you guys. I'm not even that great." There it went. The chat blew up with things like _Oh Dan, you're perfect!_ and _Daniel Howell how dare you_ and _Phil obvs thinks you're pretty great or else he wouldn't be LIVING with you_. "That's true, Jane L. He thinks I'm pretty cool." I looked over at him for a moment and smiled. He'd put the pills away and now took my hand again, squeezing gently.

"Alright, guys, tell us about your week," Phil announced, and began reading comments. "Free ice cream? That's great! Oh, and Maddie T. got bit by a squirrel? That sounds painful. Oh, it is painful, you say. Well, I'm sorry about that." He made a sad face, but he couldn't hold it for longer than a few seconds before that beautiful smile framed his face again.

"Chrissy asks, is Phil taking good care of you, Dan?" Phil said. He looked at me. "I don't know, am I?"

"For what I'm paying, it's pretty good," I said with a grin.

"But he's not paying me! I'm doing it for free, out of the kindness of my heart."

"That explains the shitey service." In response, he tossed a pillow at me. It bounced off my shoulder and landed in the middle of the lounge floor. "Good aim, Phil."

"Oh, shut up," he chided lightly. "Alright guys, it's about time for us to go!" He began listing off names again. "We'll be working on a video or two, but be patient. Dan's crippled at the moment." It was my turn to throw a pillow. He narrowly dodged the attack and it flew through the air into the bookshelf. "Bye guys!"

The broadcast cut off abruptly and Phil closed the laptop we'd been on. With a glint in his eye, he turned toward me. Our fingers were still laced together, but he pulled his hand free as he moved closer, pressing both hands to my chest to push me down against the cushion. I let my head rest on the sofa arm and he straddled me, one leg on each side of my body. From this angle, his fringe was hanging loose from his forehead, so I reached a hand up to smooth it back. His eyes slid shut as my fingers brushed his skin, and before I could react, he'd lowered his head to mine, lips colliding.

This kiss was different from the others. The other times had been mostly for comfort, like when he'd held me in the alcove or the cheeky kiss when he'd thought I was already asleep. There was comfort in this, obviously, but there was also something else. It was something I hadn't felt before now, not even with the few others I'd kissed in my life. I did notice that his lips were sweeter this time, and I wondered what he'd done to them. His tongue pressed against my teeth, seeking entrance, and I was only too happy to oblige. This was new: our tongues swirling around each other, lost in some kind of desire I didn't even know existed. My hands went to his shoulders, pulled him down to me until our chests were touching. His legs tangled in with mine, and for the time being, I couldn't have care less about my useless foot.

His arms came to my neck, one hand curled around my head to tangle in the hair there. His other hand stroked my cheek, my neck, down to my collarbone. My own hands sought after his fringe, fingers curling in the locks. His weight on me was like a comforting blanket, something to keep me warm and safe. There was a certain kind of desire building, slowly but surely. And yet, we knew there was no need to rush. We could simply enjoy this blissful moment of peace with each other, and try not to wonder why we hadn't been doing this all along.

After a while, though, he pulled his lips away. There'd been noting but the sound of our soft and quiet sights, but now he opened his mouth and asked, "Is it just me, or does it feel we missed out on a lot of opportunities?"

I twisted a finger in his hair, smiled up at him. "I was thinking the same thing."


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: DO YOU LIKE ANGST? Well good, 'cause here's some angst. JUST A BIT, DON'T WORRY. It's all good. More fluff (I've never written so much fluff in my life, holy crap) and tbh, I'm not exactly sure where I was hoping to go with this. I just kinda...went with the flow. This is what Phil and Danny boy seemed to want, so I just let them have their freedom. Basically, it's filler, but also still important.**

 **Also, I'm sorry for not updating in like two weeks, but things happen, you know?**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy this newest installment! Leave a review! Tell your friends!**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Six: Phil**

 **31-8-15**

Mornings were substantially more enjoyable now.

I thought I'd known all there was to know about him in the six years we'd been friends, but as it turns out, there's a lot of stuff you don't learn about a person until you start sleeping with them. If this little happy accident hadn't occurred, I might have never found out just how curly Dan's hair could get in the mornings, before he got his hands on a straightener. I might have never known what his eyes looked like when he was fighting off sleep, lids half-closed and trembling slightly. I definitely wouldn't have ever known what it felt like to press my fingers to his lips softly, causing him to open his eyes slowly and glare at me for just a moment. He hated going to sleep and he hated waking up; I supposed he liked the bit in between.

The curl of his arm around my waist, legs tangled under the sheets. I was on my back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm tucked under my head. He laid on his side, facing me, free hand tucked under his cheek. His bare chest rose and feel steadily, and the room was silent apart from his soft snores. I wondered if he knew he did that, but the thought was pushed away when his arm suddenly tightened on my skin. I turned my head to look at him and saw his face scrunched up in an expression of pain. I watched him for a few seconds, hoping it would stop just as quickly, and sure enough, his features went slack again.

I was still watching him when his eyelids fluttered open, and then he was looking at me with a tiny smile playing on his lips. This was how he'd woken up the past three days. I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it. The hand he'd been laying on came toward me, touching a lock of hair that was falling into my eyes and smoothing it back. "Morning," he said, resting his fingers on my face, near my mouth. I couldn't help but twist and press my lips to his fingertips.

"You're happy this morning," I observed, wrapping an arm around him. I pressed my palm to his back and pulled him closer to me. He tightened his grip on my side and moved his head to the crook of my shoulder. A few seconds later, I heard him take a deep breath through his nose. "Did you just sniff me?"

"Smell good in the morning," was his somewhat groggy answer. I couldn't help but laugh at that. He raised his head after a moment, and then his lips were pressing tiny kisses to my neck. There was something strangely soothing about it, and I let out a soft sigh, running my hand up and down the space between his shoulder blades.

"What were you dreaming about?" I asked, suddenly remembering that moment before he'd opened his eyes. He sat up then, looking confused. I came up with him and leaned back against the headboard. "Looked like you were in pain," I explained, but his expression didn't change.

"I don't know," he finally said, shrugging a shoulder. "If I dreamt something, I don't remember it." He opened his mouth to say something else, but then his features bunched up into the same expression I'd seen earlier. His hands went to his ankle, fingers wrapping gently around the bandage. He sat there like that for a few minutes, rubbing the joint that now had a metal plate and two screws inside. They'd said it was necessary to keep the bone stable during recovery, but they also said it would most likely be there forever. I reached over with one hand and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked like he was going to cry, so I crept forward to press my lips to his cheek, and then I told him to hold on.

I went to his side of the bed and took the bottle of pills from the bedside drawer. As soon as I popped the lid, I knew why he was hurting so badly this morning. With a quiet sigh, I held out two tablets in my palm, and after he took them, I gave him the water glass he always kept at night. I was tempted to ask if he actually took them, but I knew it wouldn't really accomplish anything, and I had a feeling I knew what was going on.

"Have you been taking these the way you're supposed to?" I asked anyway, playing dumb. He kept his head down, but I suspected he knew exactly what I was getting at. After about thirty seconds of silence, he looked up at me and shrugged again. I sat down next to him on the bed and took one of his hands in mine. "Dan, you don't have to pretend," I told him gently, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. He scooted to the end of the bed and leaned over, head on my shoulder, right leg jutting out awkwardly.

"Everything was fine until I got curious," he said. "After the live show, I went online and looked around for stuff about the painkillers they gave me." We'd gone to bed right after, but I remembered waking up at two in the morning to find him browsing on the laptop. "I don't know why I did it, but I found out the stuff they prescribed is highly addictive." He raised his head for a moment to look me in the eye. He seemed very unsure of himself right now. "Isn't that something they should maybe tell you beforehand?"

I could see where this was going. For whatever reason, he'd convinced himself that if he took any more of the pills, he'd become addicted to them. I'd never seen Dan worry so much about a single situation, but this whole surgery ordeal seemed to be messing with him. I watched him for a moment and then I pulled him to me in a tight hug. He _yelp_ ed, but it only took him a heartbeat to return the affection, and then he was clinging to me, and I got an idea of just how anxious he was about the present situation. I held him a few minutes longer, and then I pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. "Tell you what," I started, not entirely sure where I'd go with this. "If you don't want to take them, you don't have to. But don't just go around suffering for it. We have Naprosyn if you're that against the narcotics." I was being completely serious, but to my surprise, he started laughing, shoulders shaking against me. I waited, but when he finally spoke, I wasn't expecting to hear the words he said.

"Thanks, Phil," he began, still holding me tightly. His head was turned out, so I couldn't see his face. He went silent for a few beats, tensing up slightly, and then he whispered, so low I almost missed it, "I love you."

He'd said those words to me so many times in the years we'd known each other. I'd said them back. We didn't have to be "Phan" to love each other, though some people would beg to differ. We were just two people who became best friends. It had been platonic- or so I'd thought- up until that night. It seemed like a lifetime ago already, but it had only been a month. It'd been a month of learning new things about him, things I thought I'd never know. Like the way it felt when I'd make a terrible joke and then kiss him right after, the little curl of his lips as he smiled. Or the way my heart nearly jumped right out of my chest when I'd catch him looking at me, and I wondered how many times he'd done that without my knowledge. (I now understood the meaning behind 'heart eyes Howell' on tumblr) Most importantly, the way his cheeks had flushed when I'd told him his bum looked good in a particular pair of boxers. It'd only been a joke, but once that adorable splotch coloured his cheeks, I'd been knocked right back to 2009, to the day we first met, and he blushed because he was so nervous about meeting me.

That had been a week ago, and ever since, I'd been slowly coming the realization that I was in love with him. I might have been in love with him since the beginning, because it still felt the same, just more…aware, I guessed. Like I'd been repressing it so hard it became a forgotten memory. I knew for a fact that if it had happened any sooner, we'd still be here now. There was a small part of me that now wished we _had_ gotten together sooner, but technically, we always were.

All of these things flashed through my mind in a matter of seconds, so Dan had no time to worry about what he'd said, no time to think that he'd made a mistake. I didn't know if he'd meant for me to hear the words or not, but I still pressed my lips to his ear and whispered them back, those three little words that somehow carried even more meaning than before, the words I thought I'd never get a chance to say to someone in this way.

"I love you, too."

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Louise came over later. She and Zoe had conned Alfie into babysitting Darcy, and secretly I was glad for that, because I didn't think Dan was in a mood to deal with small children. After our little –huge- admission, things had changed again. There was no hesitation now, no questioning whether it was the right thing to do at this point in our 'new' relationship. He'd ended up storing the pills in the medicine cabinet, deciding to only use the non-prescription stuff we had. I didn't even try to argue with him- he'd take the others if it hurt bad enough, I was sure. I'd helped him fix his hair in the bathroom, much to his enjoyment, and then we'd settled on the sofa for a day of absolute nothingness.

"You know what's funny, Zoe?" Louise was saying now. She sat in the armchair across from our sofa, Zoe on the floor in front of her. She was smiling just as wide as the last time, but I tried not to think about how hard she must have shipped us before all this happened. Louise was twisting a finger in her blonde curls, so I knew she was up to something.

"What's that, Lou?" Zoe asked innocently, rubbing a hand over her knee.

"If I didn't know any better," Louise drawled slowly, resting a hand on Zoe's shoulder, "I'd swear they've been hiding this from us for quite a long time." Her eyes met mine for a moment, and then she looked pointedly at the cushion beside me, where Dan was currently sprawled out with his head in my lap. I had one hand in his hair, fingers brushing through the locks gently. Dan had my other hand on his chest, absentmindedly rubbing circles into my palm. His eyes were half-closed, and I suspected he'd fall asleep any minute now. I doubted he was even paying attention to Zoe and Lou's antics.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I asked with a smirk. Both sets of eyes went wide, clearly waiting for confirmation. "Sorry to burst your bubble, girls, but we haven't been secretly dating for the past four years."

"Shhh," Dan whispered suddenly, holding a pointed finger to his lips. "Don't tell them anything!" I looked down at him with a smile, but his eyes were closed, and as soon as the last word left his lips, his hand fell from his face. I stifled a laugh to keep from waking him up and went back to stroking his hair lightly, feeling both girls' eyes on me like a hawk.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: I REALLY WANT FLUFF SO WE'RE SKIPPING A COUPLE MONTHS, OKAY? I WAS READY FOR DAN TO GET OUT OF THE PLASTER, AND SO WAS HE. YOU WERE, TOO, I'M BETTING. SO HERE WE ARE. THIS IS FLUFF IN ITS PUREST FORM (MAYBE), SO ENJOY THE FEELS AND LEAVE A REVIEW.**

 **Seriously, guys. This is literally just fluff. You could skip this chapter and not miss anything in the plot. But you won't do that, because nobody can resist fluffy fluff fluuuuuufffffffff. So yeah. I hope you like reading it, because I sure had fun writing it.**

 **Chapter Seven: Dan**

 **21-11-15**

If you looked closely, we'd been building up to this moment for a while. I'm not saying the fangirls were right, but maybe they weren't entirely wrong. Phil and I had spent a lot of time laughing together at their desperate analyses of our expressions and 'accidental' touches, but I mean, I'd be lying if I said the thought never crossed my mind. When it's shoved down your throat on every social platform, you think about it, even if you don't want to.

Maybe I was too busy having an existential crisis to realize that I had no interest in dating, or maybe I did realize it and just decided it was because I was too busy. I could have made time for someone if I really wanted to, but I didn't. And it was never a thing that made me feel sad, even when my inboxes filled up with _offers_. I'd just click through, show Phil, we'd laugh, and then I'd send the unanswered messages to the recycle bin. Phil did the same with his, and eventually I started to see how similar our choices were becoming.

 _Thwack!_

I heard Phil laughing as I leapt forward, slapping my hands over my back. I'd just opened the front door and was turned away so I could lock us out when I'd felt the icy smack. A smile crept across my face as I turned back to catch him bent over with his hands in the snow, preparing another attack. My hands brushed over my backside again as I walked over to him and kicked the newly formed snowball out of his hands. He let out a gasp and raised his head, mock offense plastered on his features. It wasn't very convincing, as his lips curled up in a smile almost immediately and he stood up with another handful of snow.

"Snow in November," he said, not for the first time. He'd woken up before me this morning, and as soon as he laid eyes on the window, he'd practically dragged me out of the bed with the excitement of a child on Christmas Day. I couldn't blame him; it never snowed around this time. We hadn't had a white holiday in London in decades. It was also pretty endearing to see him so excited about something so simple, but who wouldn't be swayed by the way his eyes were crinkling in the corners and the way his tongue poked out the side of his mouth as he smiled at the sight of the snowflakes starting to fall again. They quickly settled in his hair, and I laughed again.

"It never snows before Christmas," Phil continued, a look of wonder still etched on his face. His eyes shifted around a bit, watching the snow fall, and then they fell on my face. I felt the blood rushing in my cheeks under his gaze, but I didn't look away. He was still smiling widely. I wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close to me, and he let out a tiny squeal when I pressed my lips to his. His hand slid across my shoulder to grip the side of my neck, and my other arm wound itself through his arms so that I held him in a tight hug.

A few seconds in, I felt his tongue brushing over my lower lip, and I smiled into the kiss, allowing him entrance. As our tongues slid across each other, his fingers danced across the skin of my back. I wondered, briefly, how he'd managed to get his hand under my shirt, but that was short-lived as I suddenly lost my balance and fell backwards, pulling him with me. He landed on top of me in the snow, faces just centimeters apart. It only took me a beat to figure out what had happened- I'd hitched my good leg up to wrap around his thighs, and put all my weight on the fragile barely-healed ankle. He gave me a questioning look, to which I replied with, "Whoops." I burst out laughing.

He stared at me for a second before he lost it, and then we were shaking each other with our giggles.

"We're going to be late," he said softly after a moment, eyes boring into mine. I felt my heart speed up at the intensity of it, but he never seemed to notice what he did just by looking at me. If he did know, I was sure he'd do it more often just to see my reaction. He leaned down to kiss me softly before jumping up with an outstretched hand. Once I was standing, he took to brushing me off. My mind reeled as he slapped the snow from my back, and my breath suddenly hitched in my throat when his palm touched the bare skin of my side and slid forward to rub gently at my stomach. I felt a burst of cold air and glanced down to see that my shirt had pulled up to reveal midriff. When he took his hands away a few seconds later, I had to bite my lip to hold in the sigh. He took a step away and of course, caught my expression. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I assured him. "Just forgot how to breathe for a second there." I reached out and took his hand before he could ask if I was joking or not, saying, "Where are we meeting them again?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It'd been forever since we'd seen Chris and PJ. They'd asked us a couple times to collaborate, but it wasn't possible with all the time we'd spent working on the book, and then dealing with its release over the past month. It was exciting, but I was ready to sleep for ten years. And, of course, adding my injuries to the mix just gave us (mostly Phil) more to worry about. I was hoping he'd calm down a bit now that I could walk without any help again.

The door to their flat was open a crack. We knew they were expecting us, so we didn't bother knocking. There wouldn't be any filming today, but of course there was still camera equipment strewn all over the place. It was almost worse than ours.

"Hello?" Phil called out, stepping over a large studio light. He kept a firm grip on my hand, but I couldn't complain about that, especially when he twisted his fingers so they were intertwined with mine. We made our way through the apartment slowly, and we were just about to turn the corner into the lounge when Phil stopped suddenly enough that I bumped into him.

"The Hell?" I whispered automatically. Phil's free hand came back to grab my wrist and tow me forward silently. I threw a hand over my mouth when I saw what he'd stopped for. Chris and PJ were on their sofa, Chris straddling PJ, and Chris had one hand stuck under the waistband of PJ's unzipped jeans. I took an involuntary step forward just as PJ lifted his head to smash their lips together, and then Phil cleared his throat loudly.

"Hey guys," He announced from around the corner, apparently deciding to act as if we hadn't just caught them about to go down on each other. He waited a second, then walked into their view, and I followed, mostly because I was still holding onto Phil's hand. As soon as Phil had opened his mouth, PJ had shoved Chris away, and I tried not to laugh at their red faces and tousled hair. I pretended not to notice that PJ hadn't fixed his pants.

"Hey Phil," Chris greeted. "How's your ankle, Dan?"He sounded breathless and was practically panting. It was almost too funny.

"Almost back to normal," I told him, pulling my hand free away. I bent over slightly to tug my jeans up, showing off the ace bandage. "This little bugger is all I have to deal with now." I smoothed my pants back down and walked over to the sofa, stifling another giggle as I stepped over PJ's outstretched legs. Once I was sitting, I looked over to him and said, "You know your pants are unzipped, right?"

"Damn it," he almost growled, moving his hands to fix it. His cheeks reddened further when Chris threw an arm over his shoulders and started laughing. "How much did you guys see?"

"Just enough to get us going," I assured him with a smirk. I reached over and patted his shoulder. "You didn't have to stop on our account."

"Dan!" Phil snapped, squinting his eyes at me. "Please behave."

I placed my hands on my lap. "That's no fun." He thought about that as he shrugged out of his coat, and then he came over to me, plopping down on my legs sideways, and pressed a quick kiss to my temple.

"Um, excuse me," Chris piped up, gesturing a hand between us, "but since when are you two so _friendly_?" I had to laugh then, because I'd forgotten that we hadn't told them yet. It wasn't like we didn't trust them or anything. I mean, if I could trust _Zoe_ with this knowledge, then I could surely trust them. I shared a glance with Phil, and then we both looked back at Chris. To my surprise, though, the next question came from PJ.

"Phan is real?"

"Phan is real," Phil confirmed, smiling widely. "As of…when was it? August…eighth, ninth? Something like that." He looked down at me for a beat, then said, "He had one of those ginormous plasters on his ankle, and he tripped in the kitchen."

"Accidentally kissed him," I finished, thoroughly enjoying their shocked expressions. I almost wanted to know if they'd been waiting for this to happen as well. "And that's that."

"It's about damn time," Chris said, confirming my suspicions. "How'd the fans take it?" My face fell at that. We still hadn't told anyone outside the close circle of friends and family, and I was planning on keeping it that way for as long as possible. I could tell by his reaction that he didn't need me to say it out loud. "I'm glad I asked. I'd hate to be the one to mess that up."

"They don't need to know," I insisted. "They've got enough theories without my help or Phil's, and I don't want them to constantly be asking us to kiss or do cute things on camera. That's not what I signed up for when I became a YouTuber."

"I get it, Dan," Chris assured with a nod. "We're kind of in the same boat, you know." Oh, right. I'd forgotten that Chris and PJ were also secretly dating. It wasn't quite the same, but I kept that thought to myself.

"Anyway," PJ cut in, leaning over Chris, "We'd better get going or we'll be late." All three of us looked to him in confusion, but he just grinned and held up four ticket stubs.

"Oh my God, you actually got them," I said excitedly, reaching a hand out to take one.

"Let's go," Chris instructed, jumping up. He pulled PJ with him, and then Phil did the same with me. He leaned in super close and pressed his lips to my ear to ask if I needed a painkiller before we left, but I shook my head. One glance at Chris told me he'd heard Phil, but that was okay. I wasn't entirely sure why it had to be a secret in the first place. Phil moved his lips, touching them once to my cheek and then to my own lips, all while the other two boys watched with increasingly idiotic grins. God, they _were_ just as bad as Zoe and Louise.

I'd have to get used to that, I supposed.

 **A/N: How'd you like that? There's more where that came from. Go back and re-read it while you wait.**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm so sorry. I referenced the Hat Fic. (and the Milk Fic, oh my). It'll be okay, though. It's worth it.**

 **I hope you can forgive me.**

 **Reviews are cherished!**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Eight: Phil**

 **1-12-15**

"I can't believe your parents shipped it," Dan mused, lifting his head slightly. He was currently sprawled out across my chest, one hand tracing light patterns on the skin he could reach without moving. His eyes met mine with a sparkle, reflecting the light from the desk lamp. I took his other hand in mine, absentmindedly playing with his fingers. We'd just gotten back from a two-day visit with my parents. Even though we didn't technically celebrate Thanksgiving in the UK, my mum still liked to have everyone together around the time it was happening in America.

"Mum was convinced even before any of this happened," I explained with a giggle. I could still picture her face when I'd told her that Dan and I were a thing now. She was mostly angry, because she'd been so firm in her belief that we were already secretly dating. She'd settled down pretty quick, though. "I thought she was going to melt when you told her how you fell on me."

"'Oh, how romantic!'" Dan tried a very bad impression of her voice, repeating what she'd said after we recounted the story of our accidental first kiss. It seemed like forever ago that it had happened, and to be quite honest, I was loving it. I'd never admitted it to Dan, but these feelings were present from the beginning, albeit low-key. I'd done enough thinking on the matter to feel confident in that fact. "'Just like the movies,'" Dan continued, voice growing higher. He started to recite another line, but stopped when he began a coughing fit. It didn't help that he was laughing hysterically by this point.

"You gonna live?" I asked, slapping his back with my palm. He sat up suddenly, practically dry-heaving. Even as he continued to hack up a lung, he kept giggling. "What's so funny?" I finally had to ask.

It took another five minutes for him to calm down enough to talk to me, but he finally leaned forward to nuzzle his head into my shoulder and wrap his arms around my neck. "My voice won't go that high anymore," he said, lips right at my ear. His breath tickled my skin and I shivered.

"For a second there, I thought you were dead," I told him, wrapping my own arms around his waist. He pressed himself closer to me in response to the contact, his body like a warm blanket. It was one of the best things about this new situation. One of his hands went back to drawing circles on my skin and I let my eyes close to fully enjoy the sensation. I remembered my thought from earlier, and the words slipped out before I could even give my brain the option. "I always liked you, you know."

To my surprise, nothing changed. His fingers kept grazing over my shoulder. There was no _gasp_ to let me know I'd shocked him. Instead, he lifted his head again to look at me. "I liked you, too. Why else would I spend all that time stalking you?" His features twisted into a scowl as he thought that over and then corrected himself. "That sounded better in my head."

"What on earth have we been doing all these years?" I questioned with a smile. He shuffled around a bit until his face was right above mine.

"Bottling up our feelings like normal people." His eyes crinkled up in the corners as he grinned, revealing the sad dimple everyone loved.

"Let's not do that anymore," I suggested huskily, a familiar tingle rising up in my throat. His lips were millimeters away, electricity buzzing between us.

"Agreed," he replied after a moment, closing the distance. His drawing hand slid up to cradle the back of my head, fingers twisting in my hair. He tossed a leg across my lap to straddle me and then settled himself on my chest. I moved one hand to cup his cheek, while the other held him tighter, suddenly craving to have him closer. Sometimes when we ended up like this, I felt the sad pangs in my heart at the thought of our early relationship. Purely platonic in the beginning, I never would have dreamed I'd be holding that beautiful, shy boy in my arms. A person could see the beauty in someone else without wanting to get in their pants, right?

"What are you dreaming about?" Dan's voice cut off my train of thought, but I didn't know where it was going, really. It took me a second to realize my eyes were closed- nice one, Phil- and when I opened them, I saw Dan's eyes watching me with shameless adoration. He'd pulled away from my face just enough to see me properly, and his eyes shone with something I knew to be love. He loved me.

"Us," I replied eventually, smiling and hoping he could see the same expression in my eyes. He studied me for a moment longer, and then his lips curled up in the corners as he leaned down again to kiss me once more.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I was thinking," I began tentatively, already knowing how this would end, but needing to try anyway. We were sat on the sofa, laptop before us on the coffee table, hands clasped between us. Dan's liveshow was due to start in twenty minutes. He tilted his head to look at me, chocolate eyes sparkling and smiling wide enough to show off his dimple.

"Yes," he said, squeezing my fingers. I pulled back a bit in confusion, unsure of his motives right now.

"Yes?" I repeated lamely, as he leaned forward suddenly to kiss me. His lips lingered a moment longer than necessary, and when he pulled back he was wearing a different smile. This one was softer, but somehow more pronounced. More genuine, I thought. He moved his free hand from his side to press against my neck, fingers curling into the hair in back.

"Let's tell them," he whispered, as if speaking any louder would somehow ruin whatever moment we were having.

I was shocked, to say the least. I could clearly remember that first morning in bed with him, watching with wide eyes as he almost had a panic attack over the fans finding out. "Are you serious?" He nodded once and pressed his lips to my cheek. "What changed? You were so worried before."

"Oh, I still am," he said, patting my knee. "But I'm also curious." He laughed at my expression- eyes wide and slack jawed- before adding, "I don't want another 2012 to happen." His tone dropped low, and I knew he was remembering the dark time in both our lives when the fans got way too involved and he couldn't handle the stress any longer. It very nearly destroyed our friendship, but somehow we got through it. "…and I don't want the speculations to get so out of control, you know?" I snapped my attention back to him when I realized he was still talking. "If we tell them what's real, they won't feel so tempted to make up wild stories about what really happens in this apartment." He shuddered then, rolling his shoulders back and grimacing at something he'd suddenly remembered.

"What do they say?" I wondered, because I'd never been as brave as him when it came to those things. I mostly just ignored it or avoided it. He started to reply, but then his laptop _ding_ ed, indicating that we were about to go live. I saw his expression then, his eyes lighting up like they did whenever he had an idea, and then his features twisted into something almost scary-looking. He gave my hand one last squeeze and then moved so he could work the trackpad. I watched him until the chat started filling up, then moved my focus to read what they were saying. "Just about everyone is shocked," I commented with a chuckle. "They're all demanding to know why they weren't informed this would be a joint liveshow."

"Hey Phil," Dan said abruptly, turning to face me. "There's something I've been wanting to try with you." He had a glint in his eyes that was making me somewhat anxious, and one glance at the chat told me I wasn't the only one who'd noticed.

 _ **Uhhhhh Dan what's wrong with you?**_

 _ **Please kiss**_

 _ **Did you guys not notice them holding hands?**_

 _ **I have a weird feeling about this you guuys**_

"Um, okay," I replied, because there wasn't much else I could've said. He stood up quickly and left the lounge before I could even blink. I looked back to the chat. "Let's all hope I'm not about to be murdered," I joked, scrolling through the messages. Everyone was either asking if this was planned or if something terrible was about to happen. One comment popped up, saying, _**Dan had that same look when shit was about to go down in the hat fic**_ , and then immediately someone else was screaming, _**DON'T MENTION THAT NIGHTMARE**_. I scrunched my nose up at that, trying to remember where I'd heard of it before. Unfortunately for me, the image popped into my head right as Dan appeared in the doorway, cradling his llama hat in his hands. I could already tell there was something inside it, and felt sick as he took a seat beside me again, still gripping the edges of the hat tightly.

My eyes bulged when I saw that it was full to the brim with something white, but before I could scream or cry or maybe run away, Dan's eyes were boring into mine as he whispered, "Don't worry, love," in a soothing voice. I honestly didn't know if that made it better or worse, but I nodded anyway, and then we both turned to the screen. Dan's evil eye was back as he returned to his little skit.

"I read something interesting the other day," he continued, ignoring the chat that was blowing up with mentions of the Hat Fic and for me to _**GET OUT NOW**_ and _**omfg he finally snapped**_. "I was hoping you'd help me out with something."

I thought I knew what he was doing. His sarcastic nature made it almost impossible to be sincere about anything, especially this delicate subject we were about to breach to over 20,000 people. He was going to announce our relationship via horrifying reenactments that would most likely cause permanent scarring.

"Dan, are you sure"-

"Shut up, Phil," was his harsh reply. To the viewers, he said, "Now, I have something special here. Phil's gonna help me with a problem." The next few minutes were the most random, confusing moments of my life. He glanced at me once more, showing off his dimple and giving me a soft smile that was probably meant to reassure me, and then he turned to his other side. "Hold one side of this for me," he instructed, and I stuck one hand out to grip the hat while he took a hand away to reach for something.

"This is too much milk for one person," he announced, producing two straws. He wore a cheeky grin as he passed one to me and asked, "Would you help me out, babe?" I took the straw with a straight face, but I was dying inside. Of all the things I'd been imagining, this was definitely not one of them. I purposely ignored the chat, because I knew if I looked, I'd burst out laughing.

"For a second there, I was kind of terrified," I told him honestly, twisting the straw between my fingers. I wasn't entirely sure what to do with it, because I knew he didn't actually expect me to drink what was in that hat. I'd be sick for a month.

"Hang on a sec," he said, standing up again. He took the hat in his hands again and left the lounge a second time. When he came back empty-handed, I couldn't hold back any longer. My shoulders were shaking with laughter as he plopped down beside me and tossed an arm around my neck. "Now let's all agree to never be creative again," he stated, pointing a finger at the screen. I could only imagine what was happening to those poor peoples' minds. I watched the messages for a moment, still giggling.

 _ **What in satan's name just happened**_

 _ **what is gOIng ON**_

 _ **babe?**_

 _ **UH WHAT**_

 _ **IS MY OTP CANON?!**_

"Are we canon?" I asked, reaching up to grasp the hand resting on my shoulder.

"Looks like it," he confirmed with a laugh, tightening his grip. I tore my eyes away to see their reaction and jumped when he slid closer and tucked his head into the crook of my shoulder. He took a deep breath and whispered, "Might as well sell it," before pulling back slightly. With one glance at the screen, he said loudly, "Pay attention, you shits" before smashing his mouth into mine. The kiss only lasted a few seconds and I didn't even want to know what the chat said at this point.

"Well, I think it's been a productive liveshow, Dan," I said when he was settled beside me again. "Did you get it all out of your system?"

"Nope," he declared with a grin, throwing an arm over my shoulder once more. "Looks like we're out of time, but tune in next week for a dramatic reenactment of the Milk Fic." He paused a moment to glare at the screen. "That's right you pervs, I know all about the crack fics."

"Bye guys!" I said quickly, just as the show ended. The loading screen appeared as the queue waited for the next person in line, and I reached out with a shaking hand to close the laptop. As soon as I knew for sure that nobody would catch an accidental encounter, I reared back and smacked his arm as hard as I could. He winced, but then laughed, because I was about as strong as a butterfly.

"I think that did the trick," Dan mused, clearly proud of himself. He leaned into my side, hugging me close. "Sorry if I traumatized you." Another round of laughter.

"Do we have any milk left?" I asked with a smirk, unable to feel anything but amusement.

"That wasn't milk," he answered. My jaw dropped.

"What the hell was it, then?"

"Powder and water."

"I honestly don't know what to say to that," I told him, wrapping an arm around his waist. He leaned forward to face me and I pulled him onto my lap, laughing again. I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed this much. He settled himself on my hips, one leg on each side, and pressed his hands to my neck. From this angle, his fringe was falling down, so I reached out to smooth it back, letting my fingers linger in his hair before pulling him toward me. "Honestly, though, I'm not surprised," I murmured right as our lips met, his fingers curling in on themselves as he tucked himself closer. The next few minutes were silent apart from the _pops_ of our lips connecting and disconnecting over and over again, soft sighs released in between kisses, tongues sliding together. For those few moments, nothing else mattered; we could have been the only two people left in the world.

"I love you," he whispered eventually, lips still barely touching mine. The feeling of it sent a shiver down my spine. He pressed his forehead to mine, smiling softly, and tugged absentmindedly at my hair. "Always have, I think."

I tried not to laugh at what that sounded like, instead placing a palm under his left ear and meeting his lips once more. "I think I love you, too."

 **A/N: Shoutout to CrazyBlueOwl for giving me the idea to incorporate these nightmarish fics into their coming out experience. I really am sorry, but I don't think I've ever laughed so hard while writing. I hope you weren't too badly traumatized.**


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: Well here it is. I finally figured out the plot device for this one, so things ought to be smoother from here on out. also, I've recently realized that I forgot to include parents in this universe? (And in Give Me Life, but that's another story). They might show up eventually. Please excuse the excessive time skips, as I'm trying to not have both fics happening in the middle of December. (Weird how that happened, but ya know).  
**

 **Anyways, enjoy the chapter! Reviews are cherished! Thanks for being a fan!**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Nine: Dan**

 **13-12-15**

"Here's a lemsip," Phil said, pressing the glass into my hand. I'd managed to push myself to a sitting position on the bed, but every moment I spent upright felt like a punch to some part of my body. All I wanted to do was sleep forever. His fingers lingered on my skin for a moment, and the feel of them sent a tiny jolt up my arm. After a moment, though, he moved his hand to my forehead, where he swept the fringe aside. He acted like it was a cute gesture, but I knew he was checking for a fever, which I was almost positive I had. "Dan!" he yelled out a second later, sure enough. "You're on fire. Literally."

"Wrong use of the word, Phil," I grumbled, but still unable to hide the grin that spread across my face. I lifted the glass to my lips and took a sip- it was like hot lemonade. Gross.

"You've been this way a week now," Phil started, but I was already shaking my head. I didn't need to go to the doctor, and I definitely didn't need to go to the hospital. It was the middle of December! We were both due to get sick. His hands went to my hair, stroking the slightly curled ends softly. "I know," he said in defeat, not even bothering to fight me this time. "But if you pass out on me, the rules are void." He chuckled before adding, "Mostly because you wouldn't be conscious to stop me."

"Fair enough," I relented, leaning back further against the pillows. I'd gotten halfway through the lemsip, and I decided that was good enough for now, so I reached over to place the cup on the bedside table. Phil glanced at it briefly, then turned to me again. I was slowly sinking down, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep for a while. Every time I moved a muscle, though, it felt like someone taking a hammer to my bones. Not exactly the most pleasant of feelings.

"You want me to wake you up later?" he asked, returning his fingers to the fringe hanging over my eyes. He pushed it away and smiled. I groaned in response. "Alright," he said, holding a palm up as if surrendering. "I'll be doing my live show later, but we can cuddle after." I closed my eyes and smiled a bit at that- I'd found out pretty quick that his hugs were a good cure for these things. I felt his lips on my cheek momentarily, and then he was off the bed, footsteps receding to the door. "I love you," he called out before leaving, probably just because he could.

"Love you, too," I mumbled, already half-asleep. I was sure he heard me, though.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I woke up to numbness. Not like, the kind of numb you feel when you fall asleep on your arm. I couldn't really even describe it because I'd never felt it before. It actually didn't feel like anything, like my foot wasn't even there.

I shot up in bed once the realization hit me, fumbling for the covers to make sure my foot was, in fact, still attached to my body. I poked a finger into the skin, eyes widening when I couldn't feel it. I was still in denial, though. There was no way this was happening. I'd slept on it wrong, and it'd gone numb, and I'd be fine in a minute. After a few minutes of deliberation, I decided to get up and walk it off.

That turned out to be a stupid idea, because I hit the floor as soon as I'd put weight on that foot. I sat on the ground in front of the bed, pulling my ankle toward me. It was then that I realized it was the same one I'd had surgery on a few months back. As I thought of all the possible things that could be going wrong (flesh eating disease, alien eggs inside my skin, terminal illness), I became aware of a voice in the lounge, quickly recognizing it as Phil's overly-enthusiastic live-show persona. Despite the confusion I was currently experiencing, a small smile crossed my face. And then I let out a harsh sigh because that meant I'd literally slept all day. I guess he'd thought I really needed it or something, since he usually made me get up before noon these days.

I took hold of the sheets in an attempt to pull myself back up, and flopped back onto the mattress. I was tempted to try standing again, but I refrained from being stupid for the time being. I had no real reason to leave the bed, anyway, so I just shoved myself back to the headboard and leaned back into it. At the exact moment that my head touched the pillow, I heard Phil say, "Yes, Misty R., he's still feeling bad." There was a pause, and then, "Are you guys really that desperate?" He was laughing, so I could only assume it was something 'Phan' related. "Alright," he agreed after another pause. The floorboards creaked lightly and I assumed he'd stood up. "I'll go check on my _boyfriend_. B-R-B."

He appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, arms crossed over his chest and an amused expression on his face. I watched him with equally amused features, and he came into the room to stand by the bed. "Feeling better, love?" he asked softly, probably so the viewers couldn't hear. I nodded, but then wondered if I should tell him about the new problem. He'd find out eventually, but I if I told him now, he'd end the show early. "What's wrong?" he asked suddenly. I swore to myself and cursed the world for having such a readable face.

"Nothing," I tried anyway, to no avail. He wasn't buying it for a second. He took another step closer and plopped down beside me, automatically weaving the fingers of one hand with mine. I couldn't hide the wince when his back brushed against my leg, sending a jolt of pain through my nerves. Well, now there were two new problems. I couldn't feel my foot, but at the same time my foot was hurting? That shouldn't have been logically possible.

"Oh no," he gushed, jerking away from my legs. "I'm sorry. Where's it hurt?" His free hand shot out to hover above my legs, but he didn't touch them.

"I don't know what's wrong," I finally admitted, after receiving one very stern look. "I woke up and couldn't feel my foot. Now it hurts, but I still can't feel it. Does that make sense?"

His hand lowered to curl around my leg gently, and I was glad to find that it didn't hurt this time. Maybe it'd just been the surprise factor. He rubbed my skin lightly and began talking again. "It could be neuropathy."

"Excuse me?"

"Nerve pain," he explained with a chuckle. "It's a common complication from the surgery."

"How much research did you do?" I accused, but my tone was soft. After my surgery, he'd collected every bit of information he could get his hands on, and by the time I'd gotten out of the plaster, he could have done the surgery himself. And that was before any of this romantic stuff had even happened. He truly was amazing.

"I just wanted to be prepared." He shrugged, and then grinned. "We both know you weren't going to do any studying." I yanked my hand from his grasp to punch his shoulder (with my current level of strength, it was probably more of a soft tap). "Your live show," I blurted out suddenly. "They're gonna think we're in here having sex or something."

"They all think that all the time, no matter what," he told me with a smile, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my lips. "You want to come say hello?"

"Sure," I said. They always went crazy when we showed up together, and it'd get him a couple thousand more viewers, anyway. I stood up again, feeling the weight on my previously numb ankle, but now that weight hurt almost as bad as it had the night I'd broken it. "Ow, shit," I groaned, taking a tentative step. Phil's arm came around my waist, holding me up. I tossed an arm over his shoulder and ignored his suggestion to just lie back down.

"Hey guys," Phil announced, once we got to the lounge. He sat me down on the sofa and patted my knee before sitting next to me and waving to the screen. The chat was firing wildly.

 _ **hey my lovebirds**_

 _ **look how caring Phil iiiisssss**_

 _ **y'all are too cute**_

 _ **we gonna see another kiss?**_

 _ **did Dan sleep all day**_

"Depends on what time it is, Susie Q.," I said, laughing. The on screen clock read as half-past six, which meant I'd been sleeping for about ten hours. And yet I still felt exhausted. "Looks like it," I confirmed. I watched myself on the feed, grinning like an idiot.

"Where were we before?" Phil asked, jumping back into his persona. It wasn't that much different from his normal personality- just way more annoyingly bubbly. I loved it, though.

 _ **heart eyes Howell already, huh**_

A couple of messages sped by saying different versions of the same thing, and I felt my cheeks flaming. I could see the blush on the screen, and I knew they were all having a field day with it, especially since they now knew it was all real. I tried to ignore it as Phil continued his show, keeping one arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was the worst thing I'd ever experienced. Worse than the surgery for this damned ankle. Worse than any of the times I had the flu growing up. I hadn't even felt pain this bad when Phil and I had sex the first time, and I couldn't even walk the next day after that.

Phil was on the phone, talking to someone. He'd already called an ambulance, much to my displeasure (yeah, even though I woke up crying from the pain, I was still a stubborn shit who didn't want to go to the hospital). He was pacing the room, casting glances in my direction every time he reached a wall. I couldn't keep up with what he was saying, and I didn't want to, anyway. It was like someone had taken a hammer and smashed it down on my ankle, and the pain rippled out in little waves, essentially making me feel like I'd been hit by a truck.

I couldn't walk. I couldn't even move my leg, because every time I even flexed a muscle, it felt like a cheese grater against the bone. Phil turned around again, back to the door, watching me with wide eyes. I hated how much he hated seeing me like this. "Come here," I ordered, waving a hand. He was frantic about figuring out what to do to help, but all I wanted in this moment was his arms around me. Maybe it'd distract me from the feeling that my ankle was about to explode.

He came to me quickly, shoving the phone away in his pocket- when had he hung up? - and sat down beside me. I wasted no time in tucking myself into his chest, curling up as much as possible without moving the one leg. His arms wound around me securely, holding me close. "Don't worry, love," he murmured into my hair, one hand stroking softly. "It might be the plate." Sirens could be heard in the distance, and the sound made me nervous for some reason. I had the sudden urge to _guess the crime_ , but that desire disappeared as soon as I remembered the situation we were in.

"The what?" It was almost too easy to ignore the shooting pains with so much of him covering me, like a comforting blanket.

"When they did the surgery," he whispered. "They put a metal plate over the bone to help it heal, and two pins to keep it all together." He pushed me away a bit, looked me in the eye. "Didn't you listen?"

"Of course not," I told him, and we both laughed, but it was cut short by my swift intake of air, gasping when the vibrations made my foot shake. "That's your job."

"Obviously." He would have said something else, I think, but was cut off by the sound of a fist pounding the door. He was gone in a flash, fleeing the room to let them in.

 **A/N: I bet you guys thought you'd seen the last of the ankle problems. WELL YOU THOUGHT WRONG MUAHAHAHHAAA.**

 **...Anyway, this is setting up for something cool, so stay tuned!**


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: THE PARENTS HAVE FINALLY ARRIVED. Also, fluff and angst and angsty fluff. You're gonna love it.**

 **PS: there's swearing. (are you shocked?)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Ten: Phil**

 **15-12-15**

His parents arrived early that morning. I was sat in the waiting room, watching the door for someone to come through and tell me Dan was ready for visitors, when the set of doors on the opposite end of the room burst open to reveal a pair of equally distraught people. I tore my eyes from the other door and waved them over.

"He's still in surgery," I told his mum before she could ask as she plopped into the seat beside me. She had the same chocolate-coloured hair as Dan, but hers was considerably longer, reaching past her shoulders if it wasn't all bunched up in the back. Mr. Howell- or, David, as he insisted- placed an arm on my shoulder as he sat down on my other side. "They were going to do it last night, but apparently his blood levels were too low or something."

"They must have done a transfusion first, then," Katherine said, patting my knee. "Any word on when he'll be out?"

I was about to tell her I had no idea, but all three of us jerked toward the door when it finally opened. Dr. Spencer stood in the frame, holding a clipboard, one hand raised slightly. "Lester family?" He called out tentatively, as there were a few other people scattered around. Katherine shot up immediately and hurried over to him, towing me along behind her.

"How is he?" she demanded.

"He's in recovery," Dr. Spencer began, but his expression was off. I could remember the first time he'd told me that, back when they did the initial surgery. He'd sounded proud then, as if Dan being in the recovery room was somehow a great feat. "He's still sedated at the moment, but there's something you should know."

I didn't like the sound of this. Not one bit. Something terrible had happened in that operating room, and I was about to find out whether I wanted to hear it or not. Katherine's fingers clamped onto my hand, squeezing hard enough for the sensation to be painful, but I didn't dare let her go. "Normally, this kind of operation would have only taken place after extensive discussion with Dan and all of you. It's not something we take lightly in the medical field. However, there are certain situations during which we're forced to go forward with our best judgment, and unfortunately, two of those situations applied today."

"Is he okay?" I was kind of surprised to hear my own voice, because I'd been holding my breath the whole time he was talking.

"I'm terribly sorry," Dr. Spencer continued, and my heart threatened to shrivel up. There were only about three different reasons for him to apologize right now. "During the exploratory operation, we hoped to discover that our initial suspicion was correct and that the surgical plate and screws were causing too much friction on the bones." He cleared his throat loudly before going on and I was ready to scream in frustration. "However, we were forced to make a quick decision when we learned that not only was there a serious systemic infection beginning in his leg, but that infection was restricting blood flow to his leg from the knee down."

I realized with a loud gasp what he was saying, right as the words came out. "We've had to amputate, right below the patella- er, kneecap." I guess there were four reasons for a doctor to apologize.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was just starting to wake up when I followed his parents into the room. I could see his legs under the thin blanket, and I tried not to stare at the space where his right one should've been. I thought I might throw up, just from the shock of it all, but there was no time for that right now. Katherine sat down in a chair right beside his bed; I chose to kneel on his other side, knees pressing against the cold tiles. I wanted to block his view of his lower half, but the logical part of me knew that was stupid because he'd know as soon as he was alert enough to feel the pain.

"Oh, god," were the first words out of his mouth, before he even opened his eyes. As his lids slid open, he looked around, settling first on his mum with a small smile, and then on me with a cheeky grin. He shifted a little as he came to, trying to sit up more. It was when he braced his feet to give himself some leverage that his expression suddenly changed. He was silent for a moment, staring down at the blanket where there was a lump from his knee, and then nothing. His expression was unsettlingly flat as his hands reached out to pull the covers away, and we could all see for it for the first time. His eyes bulged when he saw the white bandage wrapped over his knee- the new end of his leg- and then he opened his mouth. "What the fuck did they do to me?"

"They had to," Katherine whispered, reaching over to take his hand. She didn't bother chastising him for swearing, which just added on to the dire nature of the situation. I glanced up at his dad and wished I hadn't when I saw tears on his cheeks. Who'd have thought he'd be the first one to cry? "…infection, and there was no blood going to your leg," Katherine was explaining. I turned back to her. "Dr. Spencer said it would have killed you had they left it alone."

"This is a dream, right?" Dan asked then, desperation edging in. He looked around frantically, reached over with one hand to pinch the skin of the other. When it didn't work, he moved to a different place, fingers prodding at the crook of his elbow, curling around the thin tubing of the IV hooked into his arm there. My own hands shot out to grab his right before he could yank it out and he made no move to fight my grip. His mum began stroking his hair, brushing her fingers through his fringe over and over again, while he gave up and leaned back to settle against the pillow. His eyes were glassy, but I knew he wasn't going to cry in front of us, not if he could help it at all. "Just a nightmare. I'm still in the OR, the gas is screwing with my head. This can't be real." He was mumbling to himself, just like he always did when he got stressed out. I couldn't count how many times I'd caught him having full conversations with nobody in the middle of the night.

"It's not a dream, love," Katherine said, teary-eyed. "I'm so sorry." Her fingers were still combing his hair, and he suddenly smacked her arm away. She drew back calmly, seemingly having anticipated such a reaction.

"Remember when you decided to quit law?" I piped up, placing a palm on his cheek to turn him toward me. He just stared at me for a few seconds, but then he slowly nodded once. "You didn't think you'd be able to get through it, but you were too scared to drop out because there was nothing to fall back on except YouTube." He'd just gotten started then, and he was terrified that quitting school was going to make him homeless. The night he'd broken down in my flat was the one and only time we'd ever slept together, until this past August, of course. I'd basically forced him into the bed with me, because I was so afraid he would do something we'd both regret. He'd been in full meltdown mode then, but I held him close and promised him that he'd be okay no matter what.

"What's your point?" Dan asked, shattering my thoughts. I blinked a couple times, realizing I'd zoned out for a moment. There was a smile playing on his lips, giving me a bit of hope that my little pep talk might actually work. If at all possible, I'd like to avoid an emotional disaster.

"I said you'd be okay then, and you decided to listen to me," I replied, rubbing my thumb over his cheekbone. "I was right, of course." He let out a giggle at that, and I smiled widely before continuing. "I'm telling you the same thing now. You'll be okay." He immediately parted his lips to argue, so I cut him off with my own and said, "There's no point in arguing, you know I'm right."

He pursed his lips. "Fine," he finally allowed, and then his eyes lit up with a new response. "But I'm going to make you carry me everywhere."

We both laughed, and it was a beautiful sound. I knew I couldn't make everything go perfectly, but I could try. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up to see David standing right behind me. "Thank you," he mouthed, and I smiled in return.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The nurses had informed us that only one person could stay past visiting hours, and they'd both said it should be me, because neither of them felt like they possessed the ability to talk Dan down if he suddenly had a fit because of the stress. "Don't be silly, love. You're more important to him than either of us right now," Katherine had said in response to my insistence that she stay since she was his mother. A small selfish part of me enjoyed hearing those words, and I'd agreed with a smile and a promise to call them right away if something changed. I wasn't exactly expecting it, but I still wasn't surprised when his entire demeanor changed completely after his parents left for the night.

For one, the tears began the moment they were out the door. They were silent tears, and I didn't even realize until I'd closed the door after them and turned back to ask him if he wanted to watch something on the TV. My arms went around him as he tucked himself into my embrace, and I planted my lips in his hair as I sat opposite him on the little bed. His arms had been curled around his own body, but he eventually wrapped them around my waist, clinging to me for dear life, it seemed.

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke. "Stay right here tonight."

"You know I will," I assured him.

"No," he insisted, "I meant right here, in this bed. Hold me while I sleep."

"Dan, I don't think"-

"Please." His voice broke on that word, but even if it hadn't, the tone would have been enough for me to decide that the nurses would just have to deal with it tonight. I pushed him away so I could see his face.

"Okay," I promised, right as a nurse walked in.

"Oh, sorry," she gasped, jumping back a step, causing her fiery ringlets to bounce furiously. She was blushing, which made me remember that we were in a pretty intimate position at the moment, and so I scrambled away from him so she could do her job. "I've got medicine for you, Mr. Howell," she said after a moment, coming forward again with a pill cup in one hand.

"Call me Dan," Dan suggested, and her cheeks flushed again as she let out a nervous giggle. "You okay there?"

"Oh, yes," she muttered, passing the cup to his outstretched hand. "I'm great." She was grinning wildly now, and I recognized the expression from all the times we'd met fans. It shouldn't surprise me that our fan base extended to the world of professional careers, but it apparently did.

"How long have you been a fan?" I asked, causing her to jump and turn in my direction. Dan snickered as he took his pills, and I noticed they were mostly in powdered form. I'd told them he couldn't swallow pills whole, but I didn't know how they'd accommodate that (or if they would at all).

"2006," she admitted sheepishly, cheeks flaming. I glanced at her badge and saw her name- Leslie.

"Since the beginning," I said with a grin. She nodded, looking terribly embarrassed, and I really wanted to give her a hug. I couldn't help it; I was a hugging kind of guy! Before she could say anything else, I strode over and wrapped her up in my arms. I could've sworn she squealed, and when I pulled away, she was wearing the same expression that every other girl had when I'd hugged them. It was almost magical.

"That's the true fan experience," Dan commented from behind us. "Makes me wish we'd gotten together sooner."

"I can't wait to tell my girlfriend about this," she gushed, and then added, "Don't worry, I'll tell her I saw you on the street. HIPAA laws and such." I knew a little about what she'd just said, so I nodded in agreement, deciding to trust that she wouldn't go home and tell the entire world that Dan was in the hospital with fewer body parts now. "Anyway, I'm here all night, so just yell if you need anything." She started toward the door, still grinning like mad, but stopped just short of exiting and turned to face us again. "By the way, I know it's got to be scary for Dan right now, so you're more than welcome to cuddle him tonight." She paused to wink and then said, "Couples do it all the time, it just means you both get bothered if we have to check something." I wasn't sure if that was actually true or not, and I couldn't help but feel that Leslie might have been biased in the matter. Not that I was complaining, though; I'd already planned to do it no matter what.

"Now you have no excuse not to," Dan announced as soon as she was gone. He had a smirk on his face. I decided to wipe it off with a kiss, pressing a palm to his neck to hold him still.

"Time for bed, then," I declared, already slipping under the cover next to him. I was a bit confused as to how exactly he wanted me to lie, so I waited for him to get comfortable and then turned on my side to face him. "I love you," I told him, wrapping an arm over his waist. I had a whole speech prepared for when-slash-if he decided to fall apart on me, but I kept quiet for now. He'd probably get mad if I kept him up all night.

"I love you, too," he said, leaning in close to kiss my cheek, and then he tucked his head under my chin. He was quiet then, and I figured he'd fallen asleep already, and then I felt a tickle as his lips moved against my chest. "I'm still making you carry me everywhere."

 **A/N: FIGHT ME.**


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: Here, have a super long chapter because I'm in full procrastination mode. (finals are fun)**

 **How did both my fics end up taking place at the same time? I really wanna know.**

 **Anyway, there's mostly just fluff here, and some explaining. (angst if you squint) Enjoy!**

 **Your reviews make me squeal with happiness. ^_^**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Eleven: Dan**

 **(2011)**

I was staring at the paper in my hands, but none of the words were making any sense. It was like my eyes kept trying to see _past_ the sheet, preferring to see the floor or the wall or a trash can. Anything besides the notes typed out in front of me. I set it down to stab my eyes with my thumbs, trying to rub the exhaustion out. It wasn't just from not sleeping any this past week, though that was certainly part of it. It wasn't even that I was stressing over whether or not I was ready for this stupid exam, because I knew without a doubt that I wasn't. No amount of studying or preparation was going to make me learn what I'd been bull-shitting all semester.

The paper was in front of my face again, but I didn't remember picking it up. The words were blurry and illegible, and I just kept staring at them, thinking if I just focused _harder_ , it'd start making sense. I was shocked, to say the least, when little drops of water began pelting the paper, bleeding the ink into little swirls of black.

"Dan?"

Of course he'd walk into the lounge at the very moment my hands were wiping furiously at my cheeks, trying to stop the tears. Why was I even crying? "Dan," he said again as he walked toward me. I couldn't even lie my way out. Still, my pride required me to ignore him as I reached out for the textbook I'd opened three times this month. I turned it to the page I thought we were supposed to know, and let out a small gasp when I saw that the page I needed had been ripped out. How was I supposed to pass this test if I couldn't even get the bloody information?

The book hit the wall with a _thwack_ and crashed to the floor. I jumped up when I heard it and realized it'd been my doing. I took a step backwards and smacked right into Phil, who automatically put his hand on my arm. "What are you doing?"

For some reason, that was hilarious to me. I started laughing, doubling over with giggles. Phil just stared at me, concern growing in his eyes and causing his forehead to wrinkle up. "Isn't it obvious?" I gasped out, holding my sides, "I'm studying!" I was abruptly silent, watching for his reaction, but as soon as he opened his mouth, I lost it.

"I can't do this anymore," I shouted, making him jump back in surprise. "I hate law, why did I think it'd be a good idea to be a lawyer? I'm nowhere near smart enough for that." There were ugly tears streaming down my cheeks as I walked over to where the textbook had landed and picked it up, looking over the tattered cover. Before he could stop me, I lifted it up slightly, took one end in each hand, and pulled. There was a loud ripping sound, but it was barely audible over my heaving chest. I wanted to tear each page into shreds, light them all on fire, and dance around the flames. "I don't want to go back," I whimpered, throwing the book down a second time. I caught sight of my fingers trembling and moved my hands to my pockets, but he was quicker, standing right behind me without so much as a whisper and taking my hands in his. We'd never been too good for physical contact, and now certainly wasn't the time to change our minds about that.

"Then don't go back," he suggested simply, shrugging his shoulders.

"I have to," I insisted, even though I was screaming at myself to name one good reason why. "I have no job, I'll be homeless or something." I couldn't tell if my voice was a whisper or a scream, and there was a terrible ringing in my ears, and I kind of felt like throwing up, but the only thing my brain seemed to register was the fact that I couldn't drop out of school because if I didn't have Uni, I had nothing.

"You'd be okay," Phil assured me, rubbing his palm up and down over my skin. It felt nice, comforting, even. I hoped he wouldn't stop. "You don't like law, and university isn't for everyone. I don't even use the degree I got." He turned me around then, making me face him. His eyes were wide with concern as he reached out to brush away some of the wetness, but there was no trace of judgment or criticism in his features. Just a small smile and a silent offer of support. I _yelp_ ed when he pulled me in for a hug, wrapping his long arms around me and holding me so tight I could barely breathe. "I really hate seeing you this upset, so do me a favor and stop being sad." I had my face pressed to his shoulder, and I smiled at what he was saying. "You won't be homeless." He pushed me away then, holding me at arm's length and looking at me until I met his gaze. "You're going to be one of the best YouTubers ever. You won't need law or any other boring thing." I smiled wider at that, loving how he always knew what to say. He'd been saving my life for two years now.

"Thanks, Phil," I whispered, for no particular reason. "You know I love you, right?"

"'Course I do, Danny," he replied with a grin, chuckling at my groan of disgust. I hated that nickname so much. "And I love you, too." He held out his hand and I took it shamelessly. It was a good thing our cameras didn't catch these moments; the fans already did enough false speculating without our awkward help. "Alright, time for bed. You're sleeping with me tonight."

"I don't think that's necessary."

"Well, too bad," he said, tugging me along to his bedroom. "It's non-negotiable." I sighed, but let him have his little moment of heroism. I knew he was afraid I'd do something stupid in my fragile state, but he'd never admit it to my face. Besides, it might be nice to have a cuddle buddy.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **22-12-15**

I was fine with admitting it was all Phil's fault I'd made it through a whole week without losing my shit. It was a good thing, even if my wording sometimes made it seem like less. I would never be able to put into actual words how much he meant to me, especially now, and I figured I'd just have to spend the rest of my life trying.

"Hello, everybody," Phil was saying now, greeting the people in the chat. A few people were already commenting on how he'd stolen my line, but he just laughed and said, "I steal everything from him."

"Especially cereal," I added, pointing a finger. We were both sat on my hospital bed, his arm wrapped loosely around my waist. I wondered if the viewers could see it, but I suspected not since nobody had freaked out about it yet. Of course, that was nothing compared to what they'd say if they knew I only had one and a half legs now. I really would have liked to know how I was supposed to hide that from them.

"You guys are still in hospital?" Phil said, reading off one of the messages. Of course they'd want to know about that. I had told them about the second surgery, just not what it was for. "Just precautions," Phil answered vaguely with a smile. "And yes, I am aware of how cute I look in my glasses, Hannah. Why do you think I'm wearing them now?"

"He's actually wearing them 'cause I told him to," I pointed out, reaching over to poke the frames. He grinned when I missed and touched his cheek instead, catching my fingers in his hand before I could pull away.

 _ **I've waited my whole life for this**_

 _ **y'all are too cute**_

 _ **HEY LOVEBIRDS WE'RE STILL HERE**_

 _ **Dan's blushing, aww**_

"I'm always blushing," I joked. "Because I'm always doing something awkward. You guys know this." Without really meaning to, I shuffled over to lean my head against Phil's shoulder, realizing what I'd done when I saw myself on the screen. I'd done it before, this exact position, even when everything was only platonic. It was comfortable, and I knew for a fact that almost anyone would do it given the chance. Everything about Phil was just so soft and warm; I couldn't help but want to be close to him.

"You're going to get us flagged," Phil murmured with a smile, tilting his own head to rest against mine. The chat blew up.

"You're one to talk," I laughed, looking over the messages. "'Please spare my heart', says GreggyBoy28. Nice name you got there, Greg. 'Don't mind me, I'll just be in the corner crafting'- Ugh, really, guys?" I glared at the webcam. "Really? Let the joke die." I popped a grin and cackled to let them know I wasn't serious. Well, I _was_ serious, like 100 percent serious, but I didn't want to make them think I was mad or anything.

 _ **PROTIP**_

 _ **CRAFT WILL NEVER DIE**_

 _ **SQUAREFLAKES AND CHILL**_

I sighed.

"Who's got a funny story to tell?" Phil declared after a moment, eyes scrolling over the new messages. He opened his mouth to read one off when the door to our room (my room, but it's not like Phil ever left) flew open and Leslie appeared behind a rolling cart with a computer on top.

"Hello, boys," she called out cheerfully, pushing the station into the room. Her eyes fell on the laptop situated between mine and Phil's lap and she gasped, cheeks flushing already. "Oh, shoot. Sorry."

"No worries," Phil assured her, waving a hand. "Want to come say hi?" I just watched him fondly, loving how genuinely excited he was to introduce her to the viewers. She walked over slowly, stopping when she was just out of frame. "One more step," he instructed, gesturing to the screen. She bent over, leaning into the shot.

"Hey, guys," she announced in a voice that was almost as bubbly as Phil's.

"This is our nurse, Leslie," Phil explained, placing a hand on her shoulder. "She's super awesome." He squinted suddenly, looking down, then grinned and said, "And she got here just in time because the show's over in five minutes!" He began calling out names of people watching, as he did in every single live show, while I turned my attention to Leslie, who'd come over to my side of the bed.

"Here's your medicine," she informed me, passing over a plastic cup full of…pudding? "I crushed your pills and mixed them with that," she explained after catching my confused expression. "Phil's been pretty adamant about making sure you're spoiled rotten while you're here." Her expression was pure joy as she spoke, and I couldn't help but feel the same way. Of course Phil would be commandeering the nurses. He nudged my shoulder while Leslie talked, and I leaned into the touch.

"Thanks," I said, probably to both of them. "Still tastes like dirt, though." She took the cup from my hand and laughed.

"Sorry about that," she offered, moving her fingers to the keyboard. "Alright, just need a few questions, then you're free for about an hour." Her expression was apologetic, and I wished she was actually kidding. I'd been subjected to blood pressure checks every four hours for the past week. My sleeping schedule was bad enough as it was! "How's your pain level?"

"A strong seven," I replied. It hurt a little less each day, but it never stopped. It was like a dull ache in my thigh and a sharp knife at the end of my knee. Phil took my hand, as he always did when they made me talk about the pain. "Feels like someone stabbing the end of my leg with a butter knife."

"That's actually normal, believe it or not," Leslie assured me, typing rapidly. "Your stitches are getting tighter as the skin heals, so the stabbing sensation means you're healing quite nicely." She clicked the screen a few times, then began rifling through the drawers of the cabinet. She produced a roll of white gauze and tape, and looked at me with an apology already on her lips. "Last thing," she promised as she pulled on a pair of gloves. Phil made a move to get off the bed, but I latched onto his side and pulled him right back down. Leslie took a seat in the chair Phil'd abandoned when our live show started, and gently prodded my right leg over. This was the part I hated most, all because it was a moment focused entirely on this stump that was all I had left of my leg. And whose fault was it? Mine. Because I'd ignored the signs for so long.

"Very nice," Leslie commented as she removed the old bandage. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as it had the first time they changed it. I'd been sure I was dying then. "It's starting to scab over," she announced proudly, poking one finger over the stitch gently. "Now, these ones are designed to be absorbed into your skin once it heals completely, so don't freak out if you see less of them over the next few days."

"How's it look?" I asked timidly, not wanting to see. When they'd first unwrapped the gauze, I'd been surprised at how normal it appeared- well, as normal as an absence of something so vital can be- but it'd also looked intimidating, because there'd been a black line of stitches marching across angry-looking red skin, and the whole thing ached if I even thought about touching it.

"Pink and moist," Leslie said proudly, prodding the skin as she spoke. It hurt, but just enough to let me know that it still wasn't a dream. After a moment of silence, she looked up at me. "You're doing well, Dan. It's only progressing this quick because you listen to Dr. Spencer and let us help you." Phil squeezed my hand, reminding me that he was still holding it. She unrolled the new bandage and slapped it on quickly. As she stood up, she told us, "Dr. Spencer has you scheduled for physical therapy in the morning." That meant more people trying to teach me how to walk without a leg. Fantastic.

"Great," I said, forcing a smile. It must have convinced her, because she smiled back and towed her cart from the room, reminding us to yell if we needed something. Once the door was shut, Phil was right in my face, cradling my cheek in one hand. He pressed his lips to mine softly, and I melted under his touch, fisting a hand into his hair. "What was that for?" I asked, somewhat breathless, when he pulled away a few seconds later. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Distractions," he muttered before leaning in again, this time to kiss my neck. A shiver went down my spine at the contact, and I was reminded of the reasons for never letting people touch me there. My hands went back to his hair and his were holding my face, fingers curling under my ears and thumbs stroking my cheeks again. A quiet moan escaped my lips, and he pressed his own to my ear, whispering, "Looks like it's working."

"Shut up and kiss me."

He was only too happy to oblige.


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N: It's been a week since I updated. I hope you don't think I died! (I was actually finishing my last finals week EVER- as of today, I'm a college graduate!)**

 **Anyway, updates will be pretty regular from now on. I got loads of time and nothing else to do, so...**

 **I've got your basics in this installment: fluff, more fluff, angsty angst, and then a lil bit more fluff. Dan swears once.**

 **Enjoy, and leave a review!**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Twelve: Phil**

 **25-12-15**

"Dan, I'm back," I called out, pushing through the door with both arms full of Christmas stuff. Both my parents had sent over gifts and decorations for the little tree set up in the corner of Dan's room, and his parents would be here any minute with more. It was just after six in the morning, and Dan was still getting used to waking up this early. Truth be told, I wasn't used to it, either, but there wasn't much I didn't do for his sake these days.

I dropped everything off on the bedside table and strode over to him. He was curled up on his right side, hugging a pillow tightly to his chest. His features were smooth, almost child-like in sleep, and I almost didn't have the heart to wake him up. It was Christmas, though! My favourite holiday, and I knew he wouldn't want to miss a moment of it, even if he was stuck in Whittington for another week. I bent down to touch my nose to his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, smiling to myself when he scrunched his own nose up at the contact.

After a moment, his eyes fluttered open, and he looked at me with pure, unabashed adoration. "Merry Christmas, love," I whispered, kissing him again now that he was alert. He responded lazily, moving his lips against mine almost sluggishly. It was actually quite adorable. He pulled away after a few seconds, muttering something about Christmas, and pushed himself to a sitting position. He scooted to one side, expertly maneuvering his leg now, and patted the space that was now available. I grinned and joined him on the bed, wrapping an arm around him right as the door to his room opened up to reveal Katherine and David standing under the arch with two boxes each in their hands.

"Merry Christmas, boys," Katherine sang, practically skipping into the room. David followed much more calmly, though his features were stretched tight with the smile on his face. They set their gifts down in a chair and rushed over to stand on either side of the bed, each of them wrapping us in bone-crushing hugs. "You both need a little colour," Katherine announced, looking over our matching dull jumpers. We were both only going for comfort at this point, since there had been no filming the past few weeks. She jumped up and walked over to the packages she'd brought in and picked two of them up. "Here we go."

Dan and I opened them together, smiling widely. I was sort of distracted by the way his dimple poked out while he focused on removing one side of the tape, and didn't even realize his mum had gotten us matching sweaters until he jabbed my side and pointed to the box in my lap. "Black Santa," he commented with a chuckle, holding his up to show off.

"We thought you could use a laugh," David said, fingering the sleeve of Dan's jumper. He and Katherine both laughed and then Katherine stepped away to move to the decorations I'd brought.

"Let's put these up," she suggested cheerfully, pulling out a long strand of garland. Leslie had said we could do pretty much anything to the room, as long as we didn't put any holes in the walls. She'd probably be in any minute with Dan's medicine and an excuse to stay and help, and the thought made me smile. Dan made a motion to scoot closer to the edge of the bed, and David locked eyes with him briefly before stepping away to give him some room. I hopped up and retrieved the wheelchair from the corner where it was stored alongside the crutches he'd finally gotten used to. I glanced toward them for a moment, then reached forward and snatched one, bringing both back to Dan. I'd let him choose which one he wanted.

His hands went immediately for the crutch, sending me a silent _thanks_ as he positioned it under his arm. I knew how much he hated the chair.

"Much better," he said once he was standing. I took the opportunity to hug him close to me for a moment, and he tucked his head into my neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin below my ear. I waited for him to say something else, but he didn't, and that was okay. Sometimes the silence held more meaning than anything else. He simply held onto me, clutching at my coat that I still needed to take off until his parents turned around to see what was taking us so long to join them by the tree.

I heard his mum's " _Aww"_ and felt my cheeks flushing red. She'd probably whip out her camera and take a million photos.

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It was almost midnight when his parents finally left. Leslie had been in twice to check vitals and give him medicine. It made me sad to know she had to work on Christmas, but she'd dismissed my concern when I voiced it on her second pass.

"Don't worry, Philly," she reassured me now, handing a cup of something liquid to Dan. He took it, sniffed, and made a face before downing the contents. "I didn't come in till seven. We had our celebrations this morning." I smiled a bit, but I couldn't help the guilt. She took the little cup from Dan and tossed it. "Seriously," she continued, stepping over to me. "I love being here. I'm not missing out on anything."

She wrapped an arm around me before I could say anything else, and I hugged her back tightly. I laughed when her hair fell and tickled my cheek, and she joined in as she stood back up. "Alright," she said, moving towards the door. "You boys get some sleep." She flashed another smile before leaving, pulling the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, Dan was smirking, lips curled up and one eyebrow raised. "What?"

"I'm starting to think I've got some competition," he replied. His lower lip quivered a bit as he tried to keep a serious expression. He folded his hands behind his head and leaned back as I stood up to walk over to him.

"You might be right," I agreed, holding in my own laughter as his features twisted into something like jealousy. "She's quite pretty, you know." I reached out to pull his arms free, tugged them over to wind around my neck. He complied right away, snaking both arms around and resting his forearms on my shoulders. With him sitting and me standing, I was taller than him for once, and he had to stretch a bit to reach my face when he decided he'd make the next move. His lips were soft against mine, and his tongue slipped out to seek entrance right as I pulled away, eliciting a soft moan. "Not as pretty as you, of course," I murmured, pressing my lips to his cheek as I spoke. He shivered slightly and tightened his grip on me.

"Scoot," I ordered, wrapping an arm around his waist. He shuffled forward as I tugged, until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He twisted once more to get his foot on the floor, and then he was standing up and clinging to me for balance. "I wish I was still taller than you," I pouted, as his lips touched mine again. He laughed at that and removed one arm from my neck so he could press a palm to my chest. Gently, he pushed me backward a few steps, and I sat down when I felt the edge of the reclining chair on the back of my legs. He hopped forward, gripping my shoulder tightly, and plopped down on my lap with one leg on each side of my hips.

"So you like me for my body," Dan accused, leaning forward to take my lower lip between his teeth. He bit down, sending a chill down my spine, and I felt him moving his legs to wrap them around my waist as his arms went back to hugging my neck. I could only hope that nobody walked in anytime soon. I could feel the familiar tingling beginning in my stomach, like a million butterflies flapping their wings at once. His voice was gravely as he whispered, "Any other reason?"

He was grinding against me, head buried in the crook of my shoulder, and I opened my mouth to reply. No words came out, though, because I was suddenly aware of his shoulders shaking, and I pulled away a bit, trying to see his face. "What's wrong?" I asked, automatically reaching out to stroke his cheeks and wipe away the tears rolling down his skin.

He blushed and leaned down to hide his face. "Nothing," he muttered, pressing his cheek to the skin of my neck. I wrapped my arms around him, deciding to let him tell me on his own. I knew he would, because he couldn't bottle it up. He'd never been able to bottle it up and hide. There was nothing but silence for about two heartbeats, and then I realized why he must be so upset.

"You know I was only kidding," I whispered, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of his head. I should have known better than to tease him like that when he was so unstable anyway. I held him close to me, stroking my fingers through his hair, and I felt a pang of guilt when he let out a shuddering groan. "I'm sorry."

"It's not that," he said immediately, almost cutting me off. He pulled back to look at me again. "Of course I knew you were kidding, you spork." He gave a tiny smile as another tear broke free and began sliding down his cheek. His cheeks were flaming, and I was starting to wonder. "For fuck's sake," he muttered, running a hand through his fringe roughly. I couldn't help but grin at the sight of the quif he'd created. "I'll tell you, but you can't laugh."

"I won't laugh," I promised. I couldn't laugh at something if it made him cry. He nodded after a moment and moved one of his hands down to my chest. I looked down at his fingers when they curled in on themselves, and he didn't start talking again until he had a fistful of my shirt in his hand.

"I was trying to get my legs around you," he began with a thick voice, like he was trying not to cry again. "And I was going to do what I did last time we had sex." He glanced down at me briefly before continuing, and he kept a firm grip on the fabric of my shirt. I guessed it was keeping him calm, so I didn't say anything about it. "You remember?"

Of course I remembered. I'd never forget a single moment of any of the times we'd been together like that. He'd decided to try something different- said he'd read that it "increased pleasure" or something, so instead of just spreading his legs, he'd wrapped them around my waist and locked his ankles together at the small of my back… My eyes widened as I realized. That's what he'd been trying to do just a few minutes ago. And he couldn't, because he only had one foot now. "Oh, baby," I said softly, and he watched with glassy eyes as I slid my hands down to his hips. He let out a squeal when I twisted him round so he sat on my lap sideways, making sure his bandaged leg was on the outside. I'd never forgive myself if I hurt him because his stump got crushed between our bodies. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, because I didn't really know what else to say. Sometimes people said _I know how you feel_ or _I understand_ , but I refused to say either of those things to him. As soon as the words left my mouth, he was burying his face in my chest and sobbing.

"I was- doing so- well," he stammered out, clutching his fists at my sides, trying to hold himself closer. I tightened my grip on him, pulled him closer until he probably couldn't breathe, but he just held on as if his life depended on it. He kept mumbling something, but I couldn't understand him through the tears.

"You're still doing great," I told him, ignoring the protest he made almost immediately. "In case you've forgotten, you lost your leg. I don't exactly expect you to just be okay with it." He didn't say anything, but I could hear him sniffling, so I kept talking. "You're allowed to cry. You're allowed to scream and throw things if you really want to, but you know what?"

"What?" he asked in a tiny voice. He slid one of his hands up to my face, and now he was stroking his fingers through my fringe. I reached for his other hand and intertwined our fingers together.

"You're not allowed to feel sorry for yourself," I replied, looking him in the eye. I stared at him for almost a minute before he finally met my gaze, and to my utter relief, he was smiling. Still crying, but his lips were curled up in the corners, and it looked like he might even giggle. Suddenly, and idea popped up. "You know what I think?"

"I never know," he said with a chuckle, running the back of his hand over my cheek. "'Cause you're so _weird_."

"I think it's time for a new danisnotonfire video."

"Okay," he agreed quickly, to my surprise. I'd expected a debate. He laughed at my bewildered expression and tilted his head to kiss me. "I'm about go mental with all the questions," he explained, lips hovering an inch from mine. "Let's give them some bloody closure."

"It's a date," I commented, and he smiled.

"You never took me on a date."

My brow furrowed as I thought about that, realizing he was right. "I'll take you on one when we get out of here," I decided, pulling his lips back down to mine.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Half an hour later, we were curled up in the tiny bed together. His legs were so tangled with mine that you couldn't have known whose was whose. We were on our sides facing each other, as he'd insisted on looking at my face until he fell asleep. His right palm was tucked under his cheek, and the other was pressed to my hip. I had both arms around him, one under his head and the other around his waist, and I could see his eyelids drooping as he slowly wound down from the events of the day. "Phil," he mumbled. I wouldn't have heard if I weren't so close. "You know I love you, right?"

"'Course I do, Danny." His features scrunched up as he grimaced. He really hated that nickname, but I loved the way his dimple showed when he cringed. "And I love you, too."

I could recall another time we'd said those exact words. It'd been the first time we ever said them to each other. He'd broken down in my flat, the night he decided to drop out of uni and do the things he actually wanted.

I looked over his face, at his half-closed chocolate eyes, and smiled to myself. I'd held him this exact same way that night, too.

 **A/N: I feel like the end sounds like it could have been the end of the whole story, so I just want to say this is definitely NOT the end. kthnxbye.**


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: HEY YO, so this chapter's a bit shorter. Loads of domestic fluff (my favourite)**

 **Enjoy! (and leave reviews)**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Thirteen: Dan**

 **31-12-15**

Leslie Pettifer sat at her kitchen table. Her fingers hovered over the trackpad on her laptop, clicking the refresh button once more. Phil had told her a few days ago of their plans to film a new video in the hospital room. "I would've let it be a surprise to you, too," he'd admitted, "but I wanted to make sure we weren't breaking any laws." She'd laughed with him, understanding his concerns. She'd assured him it would be fine, as long as nobody's badge was in the frame. The page finished loading and she grinned.

"Hello internet," Dan greeted, very cleverly hiding the fact that he sat in a hospital bed. "As you can see, I haven't died or gone into the secret service." A giggle could be heard off screen, and Leslie knew it was Phil. Dan glanced up, looking over the camera, and smiled. "Be professional, Phil."

"Anyway, you guys have been constant with the questions and comments, so I thought I'd put out a little bit of information." He looked nervous, and Leslie wondered if he was planning to tell the fans about his leg- well, lack thereof. "As you know, I was forced back into this place when my ankle decided to rebel against me a second time."

"You make it sound like your ankle is a person all its own," Phil cut in, jumping into frame to sit beside Dan. The camera stayed where it was, and Leslie assumed it was on a tripod. This was the first actual video they'd posted since coming out on YouNow, and the difference in behaviour was almost overwhelming. Phil slipped an arm around Dan's waist and Dan instinctively leaned into the one-armed embrace, resting his head on Phil's shoulder for a moment. It seemed that they were both gathering their strength.

"I'm not sure how to say this," Dan admitted, chewing on his lip. He reached out with one hand, and the camera was suddenly moving closer to their faces, wobbling slightly. "So I'll just show you." He looked to Phil, who glanced down at the covers where, unbeknownst to the other viewers, Dan's legs were hidden. Phil stood up and moved away, pulling the sheet with him. The camera panned down to reveal the big secret, just for a moment, and then Phil's face was blocking the view.

"His ankle ran away!" Only Phil would be able to get away with a joke like that. Leslie had heard him crying almost every night this week. Phil's eyes widened in mock surprise as he turned to Dan. "It must have been going through its rebellious teenage phase."

"Obviously," Dan agreed with a laugh. It was a genuine laugh, because he was so pleased that Phil had a way of turning horrible situations into something to smile about. "So there you have it, guys," he continued, looking at the screen again. "I'm stuck in this room for another three days. I'll post the whole story in the description down below. I think it's safe to assume you guys want that." He smirked, then winked, and then Phil was sitting beside him again.

"The last inappropriate wink of 2015," Phil mused, causing Dan to blush. "Bye, guys!" Phil's hand shot out to block the lens as they leaned into each other, effectively causing a shitstorm in the comments section. The video promptly ended, and Leslie couldn't keep the smile off her face as she scrolled down to read a few comments before heading off to work.

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"I was expecting a bigger shitstorm, to be honest," I said to Louise. I'd just shown her the video posted to my channel a few hours ago, and there were already a million views. A million people all demanding to know where my leg had gone. She was smiling widely, obviously happy that I'd told my fans about what happened. I knew in her mind, it meant I was accepting the situation. I mean, I was already doing that, but I guess she thought it meant I was going to be happy about it now.

"Chummy," Zoe called out, walking over to us. She grinned when she saw me, and her head whipped back quickly in search of Phil (I didn't need to ask who she was looking for; she'd been doing this all day) and then she plopped down right on Louise's lap in the reclining chair. "Alfie wants to see you. Said he misses you."

"Aw, what a sweetie," Louise gushed, and they both jumped up. "It's almost midnight, Dan. You better get over here with us." She winked before linking arms with Zoe and crossing the large room to where Alfie and a million others were gathered. Leslie had arranged for me to spend New Year's in Whittington's lounge, and it worked out since none of the other patients were in the mood to celebrate. There was a large screen TV mounted on the wall with a countdown and a live stream of London's Times Square, where the ball would be dropping any minute now.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tyler led the countdown, screaming the numbers in his banshee voice. When the clock struck midnight, he grabbed the guy he'd brought with him and I looked away before I could be scarred for life. Louise had Darcy in her arms, lips puckered dramatically. Zoe and Alfie were in the corner, Joe stood with Caspar and both of them were looking around awkwardly as if someone expected them to kiss or something. I looked at Phil, not surprised in the least that he was already staring at me with pink cheeks. This would be our first New Year's kiss. I shifted the crutch under my arm so I could turn to face him, grimacing at the way it still felt weird to be standing on only one foot now. His hands reached out, arms wrapping around my waist, and once I was sure he had a good grip on me, I let the crutch clatter against the wall so I'd have both arms free. Both went around his neck, and his lips were on mine before I could ask. It felt weird to kiss him in front of so many people, but it was also easy to get lost in a world where the only two people existing were he and I. His hands fisted handfuls of my shirt in his attempt to get closer, and his lips were moving against mine almost desperately. He might have been more excited about this than he'd let on. I smiled at the thought, accidentally breaking the kiss.

"Happy New Year," he whispered, breath tickling my skin. I had my fingers in his hair, scraping gently at the nape of his neck. The spot where his bare skin met his hair was almost as sensitive as my neck, and he let out a small sigh as my fingernails grazed over it.

"I think it's going to be a good one," I murmured. He frowned and shook his head, pressing his lips to mine quickly. His fringe fell into his eyes and I automatically slid a hand over his cheek to brush it back. When he pulled away a few seconds later, I took the hint and said, "I _know_ it's going to be a good one," and he smiled before kissing me a third time.

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 **2-1-16**

I knew it would be a good day because I'd woken up in my own bed, in my own house. Dr. Spencer had discharged me yesterday, finally, with two prescriptions and instructions to come back in two months to begin the torture of prosthesis fittings. The only good thing about it was that they'd promised I'd be able to walk normally again.

Phil was already gone from the room, but I could hear him banging around in the kitchen. Something crashed to the floor and he swore loudly, obviously thinking I was still asleep. Sometimes I wished I could see more of that side to him, the side that was actually pretty dominating and could beat me in a swearing contest (Well, let me rephrase that- I wished I could see more of his dominant side _outside of the bedroom_ , if you know what I mean).

I got out of bed quickly, feeling a renewed energy at the prospect of spending my first morning without twenty interruptions. I was almost tempted to just hop out the door and forget about the crutch, but I knew I'd probably fall on my face or get scolded, and I knew he was already worried enough, so I reluctantly shoved the cushion under my arm and hobbled out to join Phil at the dining table. He beamed when he saw me, and literally dropped the bowl he was holding onto the table so he could rush over to hug me. "I was about to come wake you," he said, pressing soft lips to my cheek briefly. "I made pancakes." He pulled out the orange chair –my chair- and held onto the back while I lowered myself down. From this angle, I could see very clearly every part of the bodybuilder apron he wore. I couldn't remember where we'd gotten it from.

"Jesus Christ, Phil," I groaned, covering my eyes with one palm. "You're killing me." He snickered and pulled my hand away.

"Embrace my true nature, Dan," he insisted, stepping closer and pressing right up against me. I shuddered when I realized my elbow was right on the crotch of the stupid thing. "This is what you signed up for."

"Personally, I like yours better," I mused, glancing toward him. His cheeks turned pink and he lifted a hand to his face. I laughed, and his smile was automatic.

"Nice hobbit hair," he commented, right as I thought I'd won. His hand came down on top of my head, and he wriggled his fingers to mess it up. I smacked him away, but he came right back. "I like it this way." He leaned down suddenly, looking at me with the same expression he wore whenever he was about to ask a serious question. "How are you?"

I could've called him out on asking such a boring question. But I knew how utterly not-joking he was by the way his eyes were shining with unshed tears. It was the same exact expression he'd had when I had a conniption over Uni, and when he'd come to me after YouTube leaked the prank Valentine's Day video. There was really only one answer to give him, and I was glad it was the truth.

I took his hand, twining our fingers together, and told him honestly, "I'm fucking hungry."

 **A/N: No, I'm not sorry.**


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this update took so long. I've been having a bit of writer's block. But hopefully everything's better now.**

 **Enjoy this domestic fluff!**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Fourteen: Phil**

 **9-1-16**

I was in the lounge when I heard him calling out. I'd switched up my routine since he got home, and now I spent a lot of time in the early hours of morning doing all the things necessary while he was asleep. Once he was awake, I just wanted to be near him, so I tried to be extra productive where I could. Of course, the moment I heard my name on his lips, I dropped what I was doing- literally- and let the fire poker bang loudly on the floor as I ran off to our room.

He was sitting straight up and hugging a pillow to his chest when I pushed the door open, but once his eyes were on me, he let out a strangled cry and through the dim light streaming in the window, I saw that his cheeks were stained with tear tracks. I practically tripped trying to get to his side, and I wasted no time in shoving the pillow aside and wrapping him up in my arms. He clung to me desperately, fingernails digging into my back almost painfully.

We'd been home a week now, and this would be the second time he'd woken up nearly screaming. The first time had been the second night back, and he'd actually woken me up when he woke up in tears because he'd dreamt that he still had his leg. This was almost as bad, but I couldn't help thinking that it wasn't the same dream.

"What'd you dream about?" I asked softly once his sniffles had died down. His fingers were curling in on themselves, trying to pull me closer, and I took him by the hips and made him sit in my lap sideways so I could cradle him to my chest. He made no move to answer my question, instead fisting a hand into my shirt and nuzzling his head into my neck. He was definitely more physical in our relationship, but this was a bit much, even from him. Not that I minded it (on the contrary, I really loved the familiar tingling sensation starting in my stomach), but I knew there was probably a sad reason for his behaviour right now.

"You left," was the only response I got, slightly muffled as his lips were currently pressed against my skin, but it was enough. Anyone else would have wondered why he was so distraught by something obviously not real, but I knew him better. He had bad enough self-esteem already; he didn't need his mind telling him he wasn't worth the trouble. A minute later, he pulled back a little to look at me with glassy eyes and wet, pink cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," I assured him automatically, letting out a nervous giggle. Of course he'd apologize. I didn't even know what he was sorry about. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

He was silent for a moment, then nodded his head and shifted around so he could reach my hair. His fingers combed through the fringe as he spoke. I'd noticed him doing this quite often when he was anxious or scared. "We were in bed, and you told me we had to talk."

I held him close as he told me about his dream, trying not to interject until he was done. I knew it would never happen, and I hoped he knew, too. "You said you couldn't deal with the stress of having a cripple for a boyfriend, and then you left." I really hated myself for saying that, even if it _was_ in a nightmare that would never come true. Dream Phil was just an asshole, and I hoped I hadn't done anything in real life to make him think that was something I really thought. "I was begging you to stay, and I guess I woke myself up shouting your name," he finished, looking up at me with a somewhat embarrassed expression clouding his features. I realized a split-second too late that I was staring at him open-mouthed, and snapped my jaw closed.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, beginning to rock us back and forth slightly. He moved his hands back to my shirt, clenching his fists into the fabric. "That'll never happen. I hope you know that," I continued, pressing my nose into his hair. He sighed softly as I spoke.

"I know," he said. "It just felt so real at first. And then waking up alone…" My heart seized at his words.

"I didn't think you'd wake up so early," I defended, though it was unnecessary. He was already getting back to his usual self, smiling and fiddling with one of the buttons of my shirt. I started to say something else, but he cut me off by pressing his lips to mine.

"Don't worry," he mumbled a moment later. "I'm okay now." He smiled again, showing off his sad dimple, and I reached a hand out to touch it. He laughed and raised his own hand to cover mine. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I promised, nodding once. An idea popped into my head suddenly, and I let out a tiny cheer. "Tell you what," I began, holding him at arm's length, "Today'll be all about Phan"- he giggled at the mention of our fandom's ship name for us- "and I'll show you how wrong your dream was."

I waited for him to respond, but he just looked at me for a moment, then leapt forward to kiss me with much more force than before. "You're such a spork," he murmured against my lips. "I love it."

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As promised, the day had been all about him- well, us. As soon as I'd let him know he had control over where we went, I knew we'd be staying inside, but we'd made a pretty cozy cocoon on the sofa and marathoned our favourite movies. He insisted all day long that he was fine, but he'd also been glued to my hip- which I particularly enjoyed, if I was being completely honest. Most of our conversations had included _I love you_ 's and multiple apologies from both of us, and constantly reassuring each other that those apologies weren't necessary.

And of course, there'd been kissing. So much that I thought my lips would fall off, and every time I looked over at Dan, I could see his were redder than the last time, and starting to puff up a bit, but it never stopped me from leaning in again and again.

"Are you doing a live show tonight?" he asked now, one hand on mine, playing with our fingers. The TV was still on, creating background noise as I had no idea what was playing; I was too entranced by the way his curls were starting to wrap around his forehead. As soon as he knew, he'd try to run off to his straightener, so I was enjoying it while it lasted. He lifted his head from my shoulder when I didn't answer right away and grinned when he caught me staring. "Take a picture- it'll last longer."

"I hadn't thought about it," I replied, ignoring his comment. Tightening my grip on his waist, I added, "I don't really want to move from this spot." I wasn't lying; I could've spent the rest of the night right here on the sofa with him snuggled up to my chest.

He was already reaching for my laptop on the coffee table, passing it to me with a, "Who said you had to move?" He pushed himself up so he was sitting straight. "You can't deny the fans on my account." He shuffled forward to reach for the crutch leaning against the sofa's arm, and I slapped a hand over his lap so he couldn't stand. I absolutely did _not_ want him moving any further away from me.

"You'll have to be in it, too," I said seriously, as if it were a punishment, but my eye-crinkling smile probably took away some of the effect. He settled back against the cushions and took my hand in his to resume what he'd been doing a moment ago, twining and untwining our fingers. I watched him for a moment, until he looked up at me with twinkling eyes.

"You need to stop that," he teased with a smirk. "I'm not a piece of meat, you know."

"Oh, get over yourself," I shot back, pulling the computer onto my lap to add us to the YouNow queue. They'd definitely get a kick out of this show. He settled himself against my shoulder once more, one hand curled loosely around my arm, the other still fiddling with my fingers. I used my free hand on the trackpad to fix a few things before the show started. Glancing to my right, I noticed the way Dan was practically covering me, almost like a blanket, and- not for the first time- I was immensely happy for the fact that we hadn't decided to keep it a secret.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Shockingly, there'd been hardly any reaction to the fact that Dan practically sat in my lap the whole time. I accredited most of it to the fact that so many of them were terrified of saying the wrong thing, because Dan was still pretty fragile, even if he refused to admit or believe it. Every time someone had piped up in the chat with mentions to our closeness or Dan's leg, there would be an influx of spam that pushed the comment out of sight. They'd tried really hard to keep the discussion positive and not-serious, which was the way I liked my shows to be.

After we'd been sure the camera was off, I'd closed the laptop and he'd snuggled right back into my side. We spent the next few hours on the sofa, pretending to watch whatever came across the screen, too interested in each other to pay attention to a show.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You promise?" Dan asked in a small voice. We'd finally gotten around to going to bed, and as he said those words, he shuffled around until his back was pressed right up against my chest. I wrapped my arm around his waist, curling around him and tangling my legs with his underneath the duvet.

"I promise," I assured him, leaning forward to press my lips to his cheek. "I'll be right here when you wake up. Maybe even in this same position." I kissed him once more, then said, "Now quiet and sleep." His right arm came down to rest on his stomach, right over mine. His hand found my fingers and he squeezed, locking our palms together. Our heads were close enough that we shared the same pillow, and I knew this is how we'd be sleeping for a while- the next few days, at least.

"I love you, too," he said with a snicker, tightening his grip on me, and I decided I liked this new arrangement.

 **A/N: Hey hey if you're interested, I have a new story on ao3 (search for reederjoe). Check it out!**


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hey, guess what? MORE FLUFF. Are you even surprised? This entire series could be posted individually as one-shots, but ya know. This one is shorter than the others, but I had plans that required it.**

 **PS: Sorry it took so long. I know people say don't apologize, just do it when you can, but I'm still gonna.**

 **PPS: I can't believe how popular this thing has gotten. I've never had this much attention on a story and I couldn't be more thankful if I tried. Seriously, thank you guys.**

 **Chapter Fifteen: Dan**

 **15-1-16**

 _Put this on, be ready at six. I love you!_

I read the note over twice, grinning like an idiot and probably looking pretty stupid since I was currently the only one in the room. My eyes went back to the dark pants and iconic eclipse t-shirt laid over the duvet in my room. We'd slept in Phil's room last night, his hands deliciously comforting on my back as I slept. It'd been a week since that horrible nightmare of a dream, and I was desperately hoping I wouldn't dream of it again. Of course I knew Phil would never do that to me, even if we weren't together romantically. He'd never walk out on me, no matter how difficult things might get. He just wasn't that kind of guy. _I_ was the one who'd be more likely to walk out on someone because there was too much stress involved.

I shook my head to clear the bad thoughts away and reached out for the black skinny jeans Phil had decided on. My heart leapt into my throat as I lifted them up, because now I could see that he'd darned one leg, making it impossible to hide the fact that I was missing half of one now. I couldn't be angry, though. I knew exactly what had been going through his mind, and my safety was his top priority- probably forever.

I slipped off the pyjama pants and sat down on the edge of the bed to pull the skinnies on, struggling slightly as they were almost too tight. For some stupid reason, I liked them that way, and he knew, obviously. Once I had them shimmied up around my thighs, I stood up to finish the job. It looked like someone had taken a can a black spray paint and drawn them on my bare legs. There wasn't much to be left to the imagination, and after checking out my own ass in the mirror, I decided that maybe Phil had chosen these pants for more selfish reasons than I'd originally thought.

I threw the shirt on quickly, laughing already as I wondered how the phandom would take this. I mean, sure we'd been together half a year now, and we'd come out to them, but now they were going to see us being all gross together in public. I wasn't sure if they could take it.

I walked into the lounge at 5:55. He sat on one end of the sofa, closest to the bookcase, hands folded in his lap. He wore a pair of equally dark- and tight- skinny jeans and my favourite button up- red plaid. His fringe was perfectly straight, hanging down over his forehead, and he even had his glasses. I could've jumped him right then and there.

I hobbled over and sat down next to him, and it wasn't until the cushion dipped down under my added weight that he looked over and noticed me for the first time. He broke out into a huge smile and reached a hand out for one of mine, twining our fingers together and bringer our joined hands to his lips. As he pressed a kiss to my knuckles, he chuckled and said, "Looks like I made a good choice."

"I would've looked good in anything," I retorted a bit cockily. He had a glint in his eyes, and suddenly he was leaning forward and fisting his free hand into my hair as his lips crashed into mine. After a few seconds, he pulled his other hand loose and wound his arm around my waist, pulling me closer until our chests were touching. He managed to keep our lips attached throughout all this, and when he finally pulled away, he caught my bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, sucking gently. We were both panting quietly, and I was really glad that nobody else was around to see how turned on we were already, just from kissing.

"You would have," he agreed in a breathless tone, only serving to rile me up further. I knew we'd be having lots of fun later tonight, but not now. It was six o'clock, which meant it was time for him to tell me where we were going. As if on cue, he jumped up from the sofa and extended a hand. "Time to go," he announced, pulling me up to join him. I shoved the crutch under my arm and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

"Time to go where?" I asked, already knowing he probably wouldn't tell me until we were already there. His lips stretched into a grin as he took my free hand and led me to our front door and kissed me once more before we left.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Oh wow," was all I could say. He'd gotten us a taxi and kept me distracted until we were a few minutes away, and then he'd made me close my eyes, promising he'd keep me upright. Well, he'd kept his promise, but now I felt like I might pass out from the overwhelming lack of stimulation- we stood at the entrance to an empty field, the only occupants myself, Phil, and Louise who stood by a large square of colour on the grass. Even from here, I could see her toothy smile, framed by pink dip-dyed curls. Phil kept one hand on my shoulder as I took it all in. "I was a little worried that I'd be forced to endure fancy tablecloths and ten sets of forks." I would have done it for him, of course, and loved every moment of it, but I was pretty relieved to see that we'd be doing no such thing.

"Ten sets of forks?" he repeated questioningly, leaning over to press a quick kiss to my temple. There was a lot of kissing going on tonight. The hand on my shoulder slid down till he found my palm and squeezed, interlacing our fingers and towing me gently forward until we were close enough to talk to Louise without shouting at her.

"Oh, it's so beautiful, Phil," she gushed, rushing over to pull him into a hug. She pulled him right off my hand, and I laughed. After a moment she pulled away and said, "Everything is set up just the way you asked," in a surprisingly business-like tone. She shifted her gaze to me and smiled sweetly before slapping a hand over her mouth to smother the giggles suddenly bursting from her mouth. "I'm just a phone call away," she continued, walking away. "Have fun!" She practically ran to her car, and I turned to Phil for an explanation.

"She's crazy, you know," he said with a shrug. "Let's see what she got us." I followed him to the blanket stretched over the ground and he held onto my hips as I lowered myself down. On instinct, I went to cross my legs Indian-style and sucked in a breath when it didn't quite work out. I ignored the pang of depression surging through my chest and focused my attention on watching Phil attempt to sit down gracefully, failing miserably when he tipped sideways and rolled into my side. I pressed a hand to his back and he wrapped his arm around my waist. His fringe fell into his eyes and his dimples were showing; it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.

He stayed that way for a few seconds and then sat up beside me. I expected him to remove his arm, but he just tightened his grip and pulled the basket closer with his other hand. As he sorted through the food, I watched him and tried to think of a reason for the sudden influx of kisses and cuddles. It would have been easy to say he was doing it because of that dream, but that'd been a week ago, and I had a strong suspicion it was something else.

The next hour passed by in a blur- I couldn't even remember what I'd eaten after the last bite left my fingers. It'd been good, whatever it was, but I couldn't focus on anything but the very dark scenario my mind was creating. The logical part of me screamed that he wouldn't act this way if he was planning on dumping me, but the paranoid part told the logical part to shut up, and suddenly I was watching him closely, waiting for a sign that he was about to make his move.

"Do you remember back in December," Phil began, and I braced myself. "Christmas, to be exact. Do you remember that I promised to take you on a real date when you got out of the hospital?"

"Yeah," I whispered, unable to make my voice any louder. He didn't seem to notice, as he was too wrapped up in something inside the basket. He had one hand stuck inside, moving in circles.

He brought his arm out slowly, black velvet box in plain view- how I hadn't noticed it before now, I'd never understand- and turned to me, gesturing for me to give him my own hand and when I did, he placed the box on my palm. "That's how long I've been planning this."

 **A/N: Hey, so I'm aware that there was literally no mention of this before now. It was a surprise to me, too, tbh. (side note- my best friend asked about a thing in my other story, and I said "hopefully it happens" and she was like "YOU ARE THE AUTHOR, YOU CONTROL WHAT HAPPENS" and I just wanna say, that's not true. Just cause I'm the author doesn't mean shit. These people are gonna go where they want, when they want, and how they want. I'm just the vessel. Some of you may understand what I mean)**

 **Anyways, enjoy the cliffhanger! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.**

 **Also, for those of you who may be confused ASF right about now, the title -Little Moments- is called this because it's a series of ~little moments~ that Dan and Phil are going through together (Dan more so than Phil) and there wasn't much going on until Dan goes for his prosthetic fitting, so here's you a new plot device.**

 **I love you guys! - Justin**


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N: Alright alright alright. Here we go. Get ready for some emotions. (i'm serious- I cried while writing this)**

 **Also, listen to 7 Years by Lukas Graham for added effect.**

 **-Justin**

 **Chapter Sixteen: Phil**

 **22-10-11**

It was a dumb idea, I knew. There was likely no chance of it ever happening, but I'd been unable to think of anything else since that night- the night he'd broken down in my old flat. For months now, it'd been in the back of my mind; how it felt to hold him close, feel his hot breath tickling my neck as he finally gave in to the exhaustion from the day. We'd laid down facing each other, and I'd spent most of the night watching his face. Before that night, I'd never seen what he looked like when he was asleep, at least not up close and for so long a time. His cheeks were still flushed red from crying, eyes slightly puffy and one hand tucked under his ear. Brown hair curled around his forehead as he fretted softly. There was a growing part of me that wanted to wake up to this image every morning.

I would remember that image forever, and it was the one I focused on as I stood outside the shop. The sales lady had been super sweet- she'd asked who the lucky girl was, and I'd said it was for a boy, and she'd just smiled and directed me to the less flashy rings. I'd been relieved when she didn't probe further, because I wasn't sure how to tell her I was buying a ring for someone I wasn't even with. To be quite honest, I wasn't sure what I was doing, but I didn't really care. All I could see was his face lighting up some day in the future, and I wanted it so bad I apparently couldn't think straight. I told myself it would be a nice gift even if it was just a friendship thing. Nobody would question it- the entire universe knew how close we were.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **15-1-16**

"Well, let me rephrase that," I corrected myself, still holding on to his hand with the box. I reached over to pop the lid. His eyes widened when he saw what was inside, even though it was pretty obvious. "I've been planning the _date_ since Christmas." _I've been planning to marry you for five years now_ , I added silently. I'd have probably given it to him way sooner, but right around the time I got it, things were starting to go downhill, and there was no safe time in 2012 to give him this ring without the world blowing up. He'd have probably refused it- absolutely as an engagement ring and probably as a birthday gift as well- since he was so stressed out about people micromanaging his sexuality. So, I'd hidden it away in the depths of my closet, and by the time things had simmered down and we were closer than ever, even more so than when we'd first met, I'd forgotten about the little black box.

Until last week, when Dan had that dream, and I'd racked my brain for things to do that would leave him with no room to doubt how much I cared for him. I'd actually been digging in my closet- for what, I had no idea- and when I'd found the tiny container nestled in the pocket of a suit I hadn't worn in years, I knew it was time to present it.

"How long have you had this?" Dan asked, snapping me back to reality. He'd taken the ring from its little slot and held it up to the light. "You couldn't have chosen more perfectly if you'd tried." He stuck it back inside and lifted his chin to look at me, waiting. Oh, right.

"2011," I whispered, half-hoping he wouldn't hear. No such luck- his eyes bulged, and he glanced back down, and I could see the wheels in his head turning as he tried to remember when I could have gotten it. I decided to just go with it- at least I knew he'd appreciated the gesture. I took one of his hands in mine. "We've never really talked about it- mainly because there's been too much else going on- but I think now's a good time."

He watched me expectantly and squeezed my fingers. "Okay." He looked utterly confused.

"The night you quit school," I began softly, watching him closely for a reaction. It was still a touchy subject, even after five years. "I made you sleep with me. Remember?"

"Of course," he said with a grin. "It was one of the best nights of my life." He didn't miss my look of surprise- he'd never mentioned it to me before now. "I mean, yeah, it was a pretty shitty night to start with, but it was also the day I found out just how important I was to you." He was smiling from ear-to-ear, probably remembering how I'd practically smothered him for two days straight. I'd heard the story a million times, but I never got tired of hearing it. "If I had to name a specific date, I'd say it was that one," he said after a moment of silence, and I snapped my head toward him.

"Date for what?" I asked, though I was fairly certain I knew exactly what he was talking about. I'd been about to tell him the same thing.

"Falling in love," he explained, blood rushing to his cheeks. Love had never been something he was good at talking about. "With you. I'd say it was that night."

I watched him for a minute, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, and finally reached out to wrap him up in my arms when I couldn't think of a response right away. As I hugged him to my chest, the words came. "Would you believe me if I told you I felt the same way?" He had his head pressed into my neck, fringe tickling my skin, and I heard him mumble a noise of agreement. We stayed that way, holding each other, for days or months or years –I wouldn't have cared- until he finally pulled away with a smirk and I realized I still hadn't gotten around to asking the actual question.

"So," I began, reaching for the box, already knowing what his answer would be. He'd made it pretty clear. I felt strangely calm as I took his hand once more. "There are two ways to look at this: six months or seven years."

"If you only count the moments from August to now, it's been six months. Six months of kisses, cuddles, and all that other gross junk couples do together. I've loved every second of it. I've learned things about you that I never thought I'd know, things that make me love you even more." He nodded in agreement, not wanting to interrupt my speech. His grip on my hand tightened as I continued. "I don't want to see it that way, though." His eyes widened a bit at my next words, but I kept going before he could work himself up. "I like to think that we've been building up to this moment for seven years, since the day we first met. We were in love from the beginning, but it was a different kind of love." I could feel my throat growing thick, and the tears were building up behind my eyes, and _his_ eyes were glassy, but it was all okay. Everything was okay, because this was exactly what I was meant to be doing at this moment in time. "It was the best kind of love, because it wasn't motivated by some primal desire. It was just two people who cared about the other's happiness, who put each other's happiness before their own, and when you really think about it, that's the way it should be for everyone. That's the definition you get when you ask what true love is."

"So I don't know about you, but I'm gonna go with seven years," I told him, plucking the ring from the box, "because seven years' worth of little moments like this build up to something that can't be replaced or repeated." I paused for a moment when I felt something wet on my cheek, and Dan's hand shot out automatically to wipe away the tear. "Plus, it sounds like we're jumping the gun if we tell people we've been in love for six months." We both giggled at that, and then he was leaping forward to straddle my lap, pressing his soft lips to mine and sending a jolt down my spine. His hands cradled my face, and I whispered, "I've been in some kind of love with you for seven years, Daniel James Howell"- even in this moment that was more serious than anything else we'd ever done together, he still cringed at my use of his full name- "so marry me, and I'll show you every single day what it means to love someone."

"God," he said, letting his own tears fall freely. I reached forward and rubbed a thumb over his cheek. "I wish I'd known you my whole life." He held his left hand out, grinning so wide his dimples popped out, and said the words I'd been waiting for, but also feeling terrified that he'd say no. "Yes, of course. _Of fucking course_ I'll marry you, you spork!" I took the ring in my hand and with trembling palms, slid it onto his third finger. He looked at it for a moment, and then raised his eyes back to my face with a watery smile. "Some kind of love, huh?"

"The best kind," I promised, wrapping both hands under his ears and pulling him in for another kiss. It only last a couple seconds, and then we were sliding down to lie on the blanket, curling an arm around his waist as he settled against my chest, left hand splayed out over my shirt and letting the afternoon sun shine a spotlight on his ring.

 **A/N: Did I make you cry? I hope so.**


	18. Epilogue

**A/N: Well, here we are. The end. I'm honestly really sad right now, and I might have cried while writing this. Thank you guys so much for being fans and giving me motivation to keep writing. This is the first fanfiction I've ever finished, and I owe it all to you guys. I love all of you! 3**

 **PS: Stay tuned at the end for a special announcement.**

 **Epilogue: Dan**

 **19-10-16**

Seven years ago, I stood on this platform when I left the train. I waited in this alcove as I called Phil to tell him I'd arrived, and then I'd moved over to the lobby of the train station to wait for him. He'd been close by, because it only took five minutes for his face to appear in the crowd, familiar from our hours of skype calls, but also strange and mysterious because this was the first time I'd seen him in person with no screen between us. I'd run to him, unable to help myself in my excitement, and he'd wrapped his arms around me in a hug so tight I could barely breathe. To this day, he still gave better hugs than anyone else I knew.

"Does it feel weird to you?" Phil asked, bringing me back to the present. I felt his hand squeeze mine, and I looked down to see that he'd laced our fingers together. He continued without waiting for a response. "We're still in our twenties, we shouldn't be saying things like 'way back when'."

"You're dumb," I told him with a smile, leaning sideways to press a kiss to his cheek. I placed my left hand on his shoulder to hold myself steady and caught sight of the ring on my third finger, still giving me butterflies after almost a year. After a few seconds, I pulled back, wobbling slightly. I'd finally gotten my prosthetic back in May, and after months of therapy and practice, I was able to walk unassisted for the first time in over a year. I'd been walking normally for nearly a month now, but every now and then I lost my balance for a split second. Phil had grown accustomed to this, and simply grabbed my arm before I could topple over. Well, I probably wouldn't have fallen, but still.

"Who's marrying who?" He teased, wrapping an arm around my waist. He led me over to one of the benches and we sat down, still attached at the hip. I was practically in his lap. "We still haven't set a date, you know. The fans have a few suggestions."

"I'm sure they do," I agreed, snuggling into his side. We'd have to leave Manchester soon. It'd been Phil's idea to come down for the day to celebrate our 'friendiversary', and as usual, it'd been a great one. "Maybe we'll give one of them a heart attack and use their idea."

Seven years ago, if you'd told me I'd be marrying the guy I was meeting for the first time ever, I'd have probably thought it was pretty cool, but not plausible. I mean, I had a massive crush on him in the beginning- as did every other human being on the planet- but it had died down as I got used to his constant presence in my life. He had that effect on everyone- I was just lucky enough to get past it and find something even better.

If you'd told me I'd eventually fall in love with him, I'd have probably thought you were crazy, and if you'd told me I'd been in 'some kind of love' with him from the start, I'd have _definitely_ thought you were crazy. I'd never seen myself as the kind of guy who'd ever fall in love, and even if I had been, I wouldn't have thought I was worth it. I didn't think I was worth anything until I met Phil.

Looking at him now, though, at his blue eyes that never stopped sparkling, at his cheeks that were always dimpled from smiling so often, I wondered how I hadn't fallen for him sooner. He was easily the most beautiful person in the world, even more so than me- though he'd probably say the opposite- and I could see now, after all those years of friendship. I could see myself waking up to his face every morning for the rest of my life, and I wanted it. I wanted to be the most important person in his life, the way he was the most important person in mine. He caught me staring and smiled softly, and I felt tears welling up when I realized that it had already happened; I _was_ the most important to him. I was his best friend, and he was mine.

"Hmm," he mused, resting his head on top of mine. "Seven years is a long time."

"It's a good start," I agreed, already imagining the next seven years, the next seventy years, imagining how we'd look when we were old and gray. For the first time in my life, I wasn't scared of what the future would bring. In fact, I was looking forward to it.

 **A/N: Just know that if you kill me, you won't get the sequel. Speaking of which... ~SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT~ Be on the lookout for Book 2, creatively titled "Little Moments: Save The Date". (I am no good with titles, so bear with me here)**


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